mix tapes from babylon

i find myself spending more and more time just being grateful, and not for anything specific, these days. i mean, there is specificity to my gratitude, but it's also just an overwhelming feeling i carry with the through my days, not unlike the anxiety and angst that i carried through my late twenties and into being thirty. the difference is that the gratitude is a pleasure to bear. and i find that as i get deeper and deeper into my gratitude, what comes out of that is encouragement. even on days when i cry all the way home (and yes, there are still those days), or days when i am utterly convinced that this is all there is, and it's never going to be enough (and yes, there are still those days), i've started forcing myself to examine all the bits of the day, and find that there is ALWAYS something to be thankful for, ALWAYS someone to encourage ( not berate, or coach, but just love on and tell them how fabulous they are), ALWAYS a Good Friday, followed by an Easter morning. i am amazed at the bounty i find when i am willing to open my eyes. and you know, the more i get in tune with gratitude, encouragement, believing in the truth of the triumph of love, i am reminded that not everyone lives like this. some of the people closest to me seem to be succumbing more and more to negativity, victimhood, believing that we are each on our own in this world. it's hard to be around those people, hard to know how to talk to them, how to hold them, how to share with them. there comes a point at which, after being scolded for my percieved naivete and reminded over and over again that optimists are insane and frankly kind of silly, i just shut up and make the faces people want me to make, responding mostly with non-committal verbalizations. i am the horse that refuses to drink at the rank well, no matter how hard i'm beaten. i'd rather take a thousand lashes than cave in and lose the ability to find G-d in all the strange and hard places, to find gratitude in the tears, and be able to shout encouragement through a mouth full of blood. i'm done with pointing fingers. i'd rather just hold someone's hand, and listen to their story. i'm over correcting people when they get facts wrong, or tell outright lies. i'd rather just listen to why they are angry, and tell them how much i love them, and remind them of all the wonderful, true things about themselves. i'd rather light a candle than lay in my bed, terrified of what might be under my bed. and i'd rather run through the gates of the kingdom of G-d, with my head on fire and my mouth full of praise than go limping through life with nothing but complaints about what i don't have. that dosen't make me better than anyone, or worse than anyone. that just makes me...me. this is what works for me. it's about radical acceptance, careful engagement, and resting in the confidence that there is a G-d who loves all of us more than we can ask or imagine. i refuse to sit in babylon and complain that my songs have been taken from me, my praise can't be heard in this foreign place. i am singing at the top of my lungs. mil besos, rmg

...you guys, i wish i had learned this sh*t along the way...

...how to deal with the loss of about two extra hours of sleep, last night, because i insisted on staying up and watching a movie i had already seen like 40,000 times.

...how to find a really good, really reliable, really affordable person to cut my hair. i seriously have not had a hair cut in a whole calendar year. yikes. AND i'm going gray...which is not all bad, because it kind of feels legit. also, i'm hoping i can go gray like emmylou harris in "the last waltz", and not end up with a streak here and a streak there. if it comes to that, i will definitely stop the attempt to age gracefully, and start being a bottle brunette.

...how to be a bitchy junior high girl. i was fortunate enough to spend the better part of last weekend with a whole herd of the sweet ones, with a few of the sour ones thrown in for good measure. i kept my hands off their throats, and my thumbs out of their eyesockets. and when i met the sour girls' mothers, i understood everything. G-d bless and keep the sweet ones...and G-d bless the sour ones, too.

...how to be in two places at once. that one would be amazing, on several levels, and for several reasons.

...how to not sweat the small stuff. i mean, who really knows how to do this one? maybe tyler durden...

...how to avoid ever going to university hospital for anything, ever ever ever effing ever, again. ever. for any reason. unless it's to pick up my prize money, which will have to be at least two comma's worth of money (that's over a million) to make it worth the sheer hell and torment of being at that facility.

...how to not feel like a terrible person for reinforcing good and normal boundaries at work and at home.

...how to explain to people i love and adore that it's not always about them, that sometimes, in fact, it is about me.

...how to do grown-up relationships when all the feelings i am feeling make me feel like i am fifteen. and how did i miss the part where i was supposed to learn to do this in high school and college? was graduating in three years REALLY that important?

...how to have balls in all the areas of my life, and not just the areas that are easy for me to express myself assertively.

sounds like a reasonable list to ponder for Lent, while i'm giving up sodas, eating out, and doing at least one hour of yoga a day. right? right.

also, i'd like to make an order for rain, and less oak pollen. thanks.

mil besos,
rmg