Pink Coyote

Witnessing You

I want to remember vividly how you cried out when I picked you up to carry you inside on this particular morning. You seemed to say that the winter sun is never so warm in the morning as it is today! I had to pee and needed to warm my cold coffee and I was finished picking the deck's splintered wood from your crawling knickers that I pull on over your sleeper each morning so your knees won't soil. Every tinkle of the windchime caught your attention, each flap of the pirate flag standing in the corner of the yard on its side from your party nearly two months gone grabbed your eyes. Cats figure-eighted in and out between us yeowing and leaving us draped in long, tabbied hairs.

I want to remember that we left the yard that morning to come inside to get warm and huddle together over oatmeal that smells strangely of bacon. I want to remember the nights that have passed since then, the ones where you cried all night-or most of it-alternately pushing and pulling me toward and from with frustrated grrrrs of teething and sleeplessness.

The business of having babies is not a simple one. I am here purely because of my needling desire to witness your life as only I can. I crank at how lack of sleep interferes with that process, of how my own proneness to grieving the passing present moment tortures me. Built up, these two factions find me tippytoeing on a tightrope of feeling lost in a jungle of wire hangers and madly in love all at the same time. I owe you an apology for thinking I would never feel lost once you got here.

Babies don't cure our empty, gaping holes and short fuses. But you, my son, make this life sweeter than my feeble imagination could have dreamed it to be.

Giving Thanks

The Stormy Goddess, 2006.

Riding back from my parent's home tonite with B and Miles, I looked at the teeny fingernail Scorpio moon with admiration. B said something about loving the sight of the full circle in darkness around it. "Like most of it is in a shadow", I said quietly. I felt a great wonder and appreciation for the solar system, the universe, the vastness of all life which hangs in perfect balance at all times-even when it seems like things are grossly off -kilter.

I do believe this in my core, that all life exists in perfect balance at all times. It can look so contrasted at times-my small life seems graceful and beautiful, full and expectant. The greater world can seem scary and dark, full of suffering and lack.

I cling to my belief that is reflected in the moon's cycle, it always comes to fullness and then circles back around. Perfection.

I'm grateful for all that is, in my small life here on this big, round, gritty, watery, rock.

Adoring Moo Neigh

Miles has been roaring like a lion, which I think must be his favorite animal, for a couple of months. This is how we wake up in the mornings: With a deep and joyous "RAAARRRRR". He loves to watch programs about animals and look at pictures of them until his eyes grow tired. We make all of the sounds for each animal-including made up sounds for animals like ostriches, rhinos and giraffes because I have no idea what they say.

Many times a day when I catch Miles and his Daddy playing, I will hear B say "You're so cool, man." I think to myself-what a difference it is to say this to your kid over the standard "I love you", which we say a billion times a day, too. While certainly possessing merit, LOVE lacks active appreciation: as if it exists in the river of my heart as opposed to the playground.

After the events that happened with the flaky, using family member earlier this season, I started thinking about how LOVE can be wonderful-but it makes no guarantees about healthiness. It can exist and say nothing about adoration, trust, respect, inspiration, or wonder. I find that I have love for some people down in my heart, but that I can't be in relationship with them. Humans sometimes do the strangest things in the name of love. Similar with god.

I'll bet this isn't the first time I've ever pondered LOVE, the wordfeeling.
Because I'm bringing up a little boy, I want him to know and see that I hold him more special than just with LOVE. I see his brilliance and I want him to know that he inspires me, changes me, motivates me, helps me be better than I was before him.

What must it feel like to be a little child and hear your adoring parent say with full emotion, "YOU are so COOL!" ? Miles will know.

Tractor Pull

My dad has long been saying that he has a tractor set aside for Miles. Do you know of any little boy who's Grandpa says things like this? This is the nature of my silly family. This is his first ride, which he enjoyed so much. A few minutes after I snapped this picture, they operated the bucket on the front, a big thrill for my little farmboy. Tomorrow we are off to stay a night with Mile's Gangie while Grandpa is off hunting for elk in Colorado. We are taking a play day, a welcome contrast to our usual trips north. Lately it seems like we've been all work: on the new house. We should be moving shortly after the Thanksgiving holiday. This makes four times in 14 months. I can tell you that it will be the last for a while. Packing up boxes and thinning out "stuff" is a task I'm mostly happy to do. A new home always holds the promise of a new beginning: clean new walls without nail holes, new rooms mean new ways to set up my space and make it work for me. Since before Miles was born, I haven't felt organized or like life outside of him really works. I'm excited to set my desk up in a fresh way with all of my books and tools nearby, store all of my dishes in one cabinet instead of having half of them in storage, create a real room for Miles where ALL of his things can be in one place instead of scattered in several places. And so much more. Then I want to sit back, curl up with a glass of this and watch the third season of this show over and over and laugh my freaking ass off. You have not really laughed until you have seen Tobias' grafted hair transplants...

Inniespeak

"When you are on a journey, it is certainly helpful to know where you are going or at least the general direction in which you are moving, but don't forget: The only thing that is ultimately real about your journey is the step that you are taking at this moment. That's all there ever is." Eckhart Tolle, The Power of Now.

The inner purpose is always revealing itself in new light for me. Sometimes I feel very far away from myself, like a disjointed tangent inside a storybook. I will pick up an old journal from time to time and I'm always amazed at how me I was then, and still am. The things I cherished yesterday were the same as they are today. The things I struggle with are archetypal grooves etched into my soul just for me to triumph over, repeating rhythmically like a piece of music.

The step I'm taking right at this moment is to notice how my outer journey changes, but my inner journey is the most important one and that it is static within my shiny core.

What step are you taking right at this moment? That's all there ever is...

Good Thong Underwear Does Help

Funny how its almost Christmas and the sun still blazes in California. It is literally bleaching my dear Lilkat.

These weeks have been busy and tiring-zooming down the hill to run task force for the house that is being built for us, racing back up with a sleeping babe in the car to get him tucked in before too late. It isn't all bad, being in the car. We sing along to the songs of the day, some provided by friends while others are seasoned classics.
Miles loves Chet Baker, The Sundays, Morcheeba and some Chris Isaak. Desperate moments still call for endless repeats of the Itsy Bitsy Spider or the Boa Constrictor song. Eclectic taste in music, the apple not being far from the...you know. Spiders, snakes, apples...where am I going with this?

The season, thus far has been flavored with rich, deep, love and friendship, and also some sorrow. Melancholy seems never to stray from my porch for very long; an old comfortable pair of slippers I shuffle around in from time to time.
I don't like to be one of those positive thinkers just for positive thinkings sake. Nor do I enjoy being a Negative Nellie (a term coined by an old boyfriend), loitering around in unsolved problems. So I suppose the way I go about those slippers is to wear 'em when I feel I must, then set them back outside my door until I need them again.
Feelings are so mysterious, but I don't reckon they have to be. A friend has helped me to see a feeling as something I can feel, then step outside of and get to the work of figuring out how to see and solve what caused it.
Today I am feeling detached. I don't have the energy to get strangled up in someone's net, because I know that I will thrash there for days and I simply don't want to spend my time doing it. I guess I could say that the relationship can't benefit from my typical approach.
Can detaching be okay? Is there a time for it? I used to think everything must be faced, head-on: no exceptions, no apologies-just get in there and feel eveything and process til done.
I'm questioning that right now. I'm wanting to move out of being mired in stuff that isn't mine.

Tell me what you would do. I've bought new, comfortable (no, really) thong underwear. That does seem to be helping matters. I also think these slippers would help immensely.

Shroom Fever

I am up drinking chamomile tea late at night and waiting for the antihistimine to kick in...I made the yummiest mushroom potpies tonite, but alas, I am having an allergic reaction to one of the exotic varieties my darling husband brought home. Between Enoki and Italian Brown there lies a culprit. I went to sleep very quickly about an hour after dinner and awoke scratching at hives all over my underarms and trunk. The recipe called for "field mushrooms", so as B was perusing the aisles at the market on Friday after work, he followed instructions to pick up two-and-a-quarter lbs of shrooms. I was excited to try the new flavors, but the Italian Browns seemed a bit stinky and musty, so I only chopped a couple of them and saved the rest for drying. I don't think I have a penicillin allergy, but truth be told I don't even know if I've ever had a shot of P!

Eeeeee. Anyone up?