Saturday, July 12, 2014

Setting Down Roots

** a long forgotten post sitting silently in the wings for a chance.  today is that day.  unedited. unfinished.  just right.  **

back to basics.
black bread
eggs for breakfast

miss the unavailability
letters - overstimulous.

avoided activity on purpose this week.  to stay out of hte sensory overload.  the commercials.  remember thinking while I was overseas how anyone owuld ever go back to the american ways.  this was better.  simpler.  and it was.  it is. but it's also really fucking hard.
my first day back - my mom picked me up from the airport and took me immediately to her choir pracdtice.  i dropped of my cat in the sanctuary and walked to target.  after two years, I had no usable shoes - nothing with a back on it.  and it was december.
i walked the two blocks to thestore as i'd done for two years.  and i felt weird.  people starred at me.  pointed.  honked.  yelled.  i purchased a jacket and something else silly and mosied back.  but i already knew.  walking... was a thing of the past.  i felt like i'd crossed some invisiable line.  like even htough it made more sense to walk, thats just not hte way we do things here.  and let's be honest, it's not.

when i got home that night, i was enamoured with how clean everything smeleed and the tv.  oh the tv. i stayed up until 4am.  watching some godawful vh1 reality show.  not because it was good.  lordy no, it was awful.  but because it was there.  because i could.

spent days in proverbial silence - in calm.  no tv. no internet.  didn't miss it.

started with teh bread - kyiv pumpernickle.  the glorious of the glorious.  my favorite bread on the planet.  then came breakfast - the simplest, humblest and most delishious meal i've ever had - hard boiled egg on blackbread.  then the borshch. and it feels like home.  it feels like mine.  it's simple and good.

yesterday i was watching Top Chef.  Because it was on.  i wasn't particularily interested in it, but it was there.  i coud have been listing to a favorite album, or embroidering, or cleaning, or reading, or doing anything else than speaks to my soul.  but no, the tv said go,and i went.
However.  the challenge was to cook som3thing that made them feel like home.  And i thought  about it.  I didn't have that.  there's nothing my mom or dad or grandmothers ever cooked that makes me feel like I'm at home.

then I made my borshch.  and I ate my egg sammie.  and I realized that wasn't true at all.  this is it.  and this simple move, is home for me.

the act of making and sharing a meal is a way to show love.  and sometimes the simplest things are the greatest.

There is Heat in Freezing/Be A Testiment

At 32, things aren't exactly as I thought they would be.  It's been 7 and a half years since my last relationship.  The last time I had more than 5 dates.   I have no idea what kind of life I will lead, whether my expectations and hopes and dreams will ever come true.  And sometimes this is hard to hear my heart say.  Harder still to know it's true.

The expectation to couple up - not only in marriage and children and the traditional living happily ever after story we're told so often - but in everything.  The grocery store.  The mall.  Cafes, bookstores, parks - the works.  And friends are not always the answer.  Friends who are themselves coupled.  Or bitter.

No, that is not the way.

But there is comfort in little things.  In realizing that time passes.  That you will take classes, you will teach the job, your role will change - your role in the family, at work, in your friendship circle, even your role within yourself.  And that is ok.  You will work hard and play hard.  You will do things and have feelings and outbursts that are unrecognizable even to you.

 But these things are a reveling.  And a reckoning.

There are days when it is too much, the ache to live the life seen around is so real.  Weddings are especially acute.  But so are days when friends' dreams come true.  When my dreams are being realized by people I love - people so close to me.  And there is solace.  I read.  Maybe once a month, maybe once a week.  This article.  It is a profound ache - one for which I've yet to find a suitable name.  One that I know is real for me, and one that I know my dearly coupled friends simply do not, and at this point, cannot understand.  It is so very real, the pain, the loneliness.  The fear.  The hope.

And so today, it's the little things:
* Buying a pair of jeans that make me feel sexy.
* Fish tacos with friends that make me want to dance.
* Taking myself on a movie date and discovering a film that makes my heart happy in the most  unexpected of ways.
* Running to a park and swinging on swings and sliding down slides under a moon that is so bright, I cannot imagine how it does not wake the neighbors.

I may be alone.  But I am not lonely.  And I am grateful.

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