be careful what you wish for...

i have a simple philosophy. fill what's empty. empty what's full. and scratch where it itches.

--alice lee roosevelt longworth

all we demanded was our right to twinkle.

--marilyn monroe

'well, I'll eat it,' said alice, 'and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; so either way i'll get into the garden, and i don't care which happens!'

--alice, alice's adventures in wonderland

i remember a night, not long ago (maybe a year, maybe less, but definitely before i left san antonio), on the phone with jax, out on my porch, righteously indignant and in tears, yet again.  i don't remember exactly what i was upset about, or maybe i'd had a major session with therapy mary, but i was real.wound.up.  i vividly remember saying to jax, " i really don't even care what happens next, as long as it's something different.  this sameness, this always-winter-and-never-christmas...this, i can't stand much longer." and jackie, wise woman that she is, reminded me, "girl, you best be careful what you wish for." 


 and she was right.  i had best be really, really careful.  and by" best be careful", i mean i  stopped wishing...for anything.  i stopped hoping, for anything.  i caved all the way in, put my head down, and just kept going.  because that's what i do, it's how i knew i was supposed to do it, not because of anything anyone told me, but because of how it felt when i finally stopped being such a cry-baby about how hard it is to be a real grown up and make a life that means something, and freaking acted like a real grown up and realized i had a life that meant something to me, and meant something that was deep and profound, and good, even when it was really, really tough to understand or feel like i was doing anything more than treading water.  and it was absolutely the right thing to do. 


it was hard, not hard like four years of therapy, trying to figure out how to be someone who didn't feel strung out and crazy and like a constant disappointment, and anxious about getting shit right, the first time EVERY TIME, but it was hard.  those four years of work made it not awful, though.  even when all the wheels came off, and there was that scary six weeks of waiting to see if pieces would fall into place, i never considered that something wouldn't work out.  that's the strangest thing, the thing that i've always managed to believe, even before therapy mary, even at the worst moments...i always believed in my heart of hearts that i'd figure it out, that G-d and the universe would hand me what i needed, when i needed it, and i would figure it out.  


and things did change.  everything changed.  and it's still changing.  it never stopped, really...even though it felt like geological ages passed between when things got nuts and when things started to smooth out.  the cool part, the part i didn't imagine, that i didn't even dare to wish for, was at some point, it wouldn't just be me figuring it out, navigating the rivers, looking at the calendar.  and now, it's not just me.  


we figure this out, now. we figure this out. 
that's kind of amazing.  


mil besos,
rmg

no quarter

"we are not interested in the possibilities of defeat; they do not exist."

--Her Majesty Victoria, by the Grace of God, 

of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland Queen, 

Defender of the Faith, 

Empress of India

so live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart. trouble no one about their religion; respect others in their view, and demand that they respect yours. love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life. seek to make your life long and its purpose in the service of your people. prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide. always give a word or a sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend, even a stranger, when in a lonely place. show respect to all people and grovel to none. when you arise in the morning give thanks for the food and for the joy of living. if you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies only in yourself. abuse no one and no thing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools and robs the spirit of its vision. when it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. sing your death song and die like a hero going home.

--tecumseh

as a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. to make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. to make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives. 


--henry david thoreau

two christmases ago, sitting in st john's with momma, grammy and aunt sue, i heard my buddy ripp preach one of the best sermons i've ever, ever heard.  he related a story about two little boys with two very different world views, one totally pessimistic and jaded, and the other a precious little idealist, living off hope. to sum up... the boys woke up christmas morning, to find a giant pile of horse manure in the middle of their room.  one began immediately to weep and wail and bemoan the mess that he was about to clean up.  the other little guy just lit right up, and exclaimed "i just know this means there's a pony here, somewhere!"  

i felt so challenged by that story, and from the moment i heard it, i clung to it, dug into it like a tick, put my head in the well of this story and drank until i couldn't feel my tongue and throat, anymore.  2011 was a bruiser of a year, but that story kept me focused, because G-d knows there was a TON of shit to shovel in that twelvemonth. and it all smelled really bad.  i mean really bad, like the kind of smell that hits like a brick, and immediately makes you throw up a little bit in the back of your mouth. real graphic, i know.  but i'm making a point here...

i struggle not to be the little kid who wakes up, just looking for something to bitch about, loudly lamenting the poo on the floor.  i so want to be the kid who wakes up and begins to cheerfully clear up the mess, knowing that underneath it, there's something profound and beautiful and unexpected waiting to show it's face.  it's a choice, really--do i wake up and immediately start looking forward to going back to sleep, and just do what i have to do to get through the day, or do i wake up and start shoveling and smile about it, because I KNOW THERE'S A PONY HERE, SOMEWHERE?  i ask myself that question just about every morning when i wake up, and have since i heard that sermon.  and most days, the baby jesus puts a hand on my shoulder, and i pick up a shovel, and we start to work with a smile on our face,knowing that we'll be going for a ride, at some point in the day.  other days, and they don't come around very often (thanks be to G-d...) all i can see/smell/hear/dread is that giant and stinky pile of poo in the middle of the floor of my life.  and that's ok, too.  

those bad days make me miss the other kind so much that i work like hell to avoid them.  being my best self is important to me, to believe that i'm bringing it every.single.day.  but the reality is that i have some days when i am not awesome, when i'm kind of bitchy and neurotic and need approval from EVERYONE about EVERYTHING, because LOOK HOW I'M SHOVELING MY SHIT WITH A SMILE ON MY FACE AND MY 8cm PEARL EARRINGS AND TWIN SET AND EVERYTHING. ADORE MEEEEEEEE.  

it's hard to admit that, internets.  it is HARD to admit that.  but when those days happen, i do my best not to ignore them, to make them count, even when i'd rather just punch out and go home, and pull the covers over my head, and start over in the morning.  because we don't get re-do's.  there are no make-up pictures.  this final is cumulative.  there is no parlay.  there is no time-out.  and i don't have the time to waste whining or wishing away any part of any day i wake up alive, on the green side of the grass.  we're working on a clock here, people...tick-tock.  

the stakes for this game of choices are incredibly high, because it's not about ponies or poo or really good sermons, or that cute shirt i keep waiting to go on sale.  it's about this life, about choosing to see as many sides to an issue as i can, and to do my dead-level best to find a way to celebrate the good angles.  it's not about being pollyanna and constantly running the sunshine hose up people's...noses. it's choosing not to get stuck in believing all i'm doing is shoveling shit, waiting for shoes to drop, listening to whether the phone sounds ominous when it rings, etc.  it's choosing to be grateful, even in the face of the unknown, and to be confident in the face of the unknowable.  it's having the stones to be like moses, and stand with my face unveiled, just to glance at the glory of G-d's back.  and that is worth everything. it's worth being different over, worth being misunderstood by people who don't get it or think i'm just a little bit silly about my approach to how i do life.  it's worth knowing that G-d takes no prisoners, that i will be annihilated by love and grace and mercy... that picking up that shovel and getting to work and singing at the top of my lungs while i shovel, instead of wailing and gnashing my teeth, makes all the difference.  

mil besos,

rmg

refuse to fall down.

if you cannot refuse to fall down,

refuse to stay down.

if you cannot refuse to stay down

lift your heart toward heaven

and like a hungry beggar,

ask that it be filled,

and it will be filled.

you may be pushed down.

you may be kept from rising.

but no one can keep you from lifting

your heart toward heaven — only you.

it is in the middle of misery that

so much becomes clear.

the one who says nothing good came of this,

is not yet listening.

--clarissa pinkola estes

throw down your arms...

**from the American Heritage Dictionary:

rad·i·cal

adj.

1. Arising from or going to a root or source; basic:proposed a radical solution to the problem.

2. Departing markedly from the usual or customary; extreme or drastic:a radical change in diet.

3. Relating to or advocating fundamental or revolutionary changes in current practices, conditions, or institutions:radical politics; a radical political theorist.

4. Medicine Relating to or being surgery that is extreme or drastic in an effort to eradicate all existing or potential disease:radical hysterectomy.

5. Linguistics Of or being a root:a radical form.

6. Botany

a. Of, relating to, or arising from a root:radical hairs.

b. Arising from the base of a stem or from a below-ground stem or rhizome:radical leaves.

7. Slang Excellent; wonderful.

n.

1. One who advocates fundamental or revolutionary changes in current practices, conditions, or institutions:radicals seeking to overthrow the social order.

ac·cep·tance n. 1. The act or process of accepting. 2. The state of being accepted or acceptable. 3. Favorable reception; approval. 4. Belief in something; agreement. 5. a. A formal indication by a debtor of willingness to pay a draft or bill of exchange. b. An instrument so accepted, especially a bankers' acceptance. 6. Law The demonstration of agreement with the terms and conditions of another's offer so that the offer becomes a contract between the two parties.

pasture parties

when they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to simon peter, “simon, son of john, do you love me more than these?” he said to him, “yes, Lord; you know that i love you.” He said to him, “feed my lambs.” he said to him a second time, “simon, son of john, do you love me?” he said to him, “yes, lord; you know that i love you.” he said to him, “tend my sheep.” he said to him the third time, “simon, son of john, do you love me?” peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, “do you love me?” and he said to him, “Lord,you know everything; you know that i love you.” Jesus said to him, “feed my sheep. truly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, you used to dress yourself and walk wherever you wanted, but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go.” this he said to show by what kind of death he was to glorify G-d.) and after saying this he said to him,“follow me.”

--the gospel according to st. john, 21:15-19

i am not afraid of an army of lions led by a sheep; i am afraid of an army of sheep led by a lion.
--alexander the great

...snotty-nosed sheep are born looking for a place to die.

--bobby mcmurry 

 working with little people is one of the joys of my life.  they teach me so much more than i teach them. i am constantly amazed at what we learn together.  

here are some photos of a paper-painting we've been working on (it's still a work in progress) for the last three weeks.  it's to remind us that we are each special and unique, and not just a homogeneous herd of dumb animals.  there are sheep with wings and sparkles, and pink wool.  there are butterflies and flowers and trees and bees and sunshine.  there's a whole creation on this piddly little sheet of butcher paper.  this may be my favorite thing i've ever made with the little people.  i want to frame it and take it with me everywhere i go, to remind me of how special we all are, how much G-d loves us.  

we talked about how sheep  are defenseless without a shepherd.  sheep are notoriously fragile, and have been known to drown in a rainstorm, simply because they become so mesmerized by the falling drops that they don't put their heads down, and their lungs fill up.  not a real winner in the "will to live" department...but this is the image Jesus offers peter, the image He offers us, the picture of who we are and how we are.  but it's also the image we are offered of Jesus, as well.  and that's pretty cool.  

Jesus takes the weakness of the sheep, the willingness to die without a fight, the innocence and wildness and fear of those dumb animals, and makes it into something beautiful, something strong, something solid you can rest against...something to be proud of...something by which we are inspired and encouraged.  that is no small thing.  this Jesus comes to us, and out of his lamb's mouth, roars a roar of love with the full throat of a lion.  we have to remember that.  our lives depend on it.  we have to learn how to be brave and fragile, at the same time, and to know and believe that we are being tended well, even when it's dark and we can't see anything in front of us but more darkness.  we are not sheep without a shepherd.  we are Jesus's people, and the sheep of His pasture.  i just love that. 

****

pasture parties are part and parcel of my best memories from high school and college.  i added another of them to my string of happy stories this weekend. i had a seriously kick-ass time making new friends and hearing stories that made me laugh until my face hurt.  and i saw some shooting stars.  and i watched the sun come up.  and my boyfriend kicks so much ass, i can't stand it.    

mil besos,

rmg