Sunday, September 30, 2012

one-track mind.

most of the time i find myself trying to batter my brain with weird thoughts; i shutter to think who i'd be if i'd remained two-dimensional when my cries met first air. but now i'm coming to find that the one-track mind i'd always side-stepped might be where i'm heading.

four months & 24 hours ago my lips lost their pair & my heart lost its match & my fingers lost their ten they'd held. four months & 24 hours ago i started a new path that meant my fingers would have to hold themselves & wonder where their match had gone to. four months & 24 hours ago i blazed my old life & left the love that had kept me warm the three years past.

these four months have meant adventure; i have seen & met more of southern colorado than i'd ever imagined possible in a summer. i've swam, i've camped, i've run, i've biked, i've climbed, i've jumped, i've driven, i've soaked.

these four months have meant independence; my lonely hands have been in the world without their ten best & they had to learn to be contented alone. i've met, i've made, i've created, i've baked, i've explored, i've danced, i've been whole in myself.

these four months have meant discovery; i've found new depths and widths of who i've made. i've grown, i've grieved, i've ached, i've laughed, i've melted, i've longed, i've loved.

but these four months showed me that all the adventure, all the independence, all the discovery don't taste as sweet as the love made by those ten fingers & two lips & one heart i lost four months & 24 hours ago.

brother & his love made me remember the best i'd shared with those adored fingers and blessed lips and sacred heart. it made me remember what it was like to be one-track minded when those were all i'd dream & need, when those were my world & we made each day neat. they made me remember all of the road trips we've been on, & all the moments you & i made (mosquito hells & desert suns & the like). they made me remember how much i love teasing grins out of those two lips and holding those ten fingers while we watch the fire die. they made me remember the taste of our sweet companionship, and i can't shake the aftertaste.

i want to ask you for glasses of water when you get up while we watch movies together. i want you to make me mad by telling me how slow i am. i want us to fall again & never get back up. these four months & 24 hours i hope won't grow long; my fingers & lips & heart want their pair. before i always needed you, but now you're all i want. i want to let my mind to be one-track and for you to be the only song it plays.

now i think our hands can roam but at nightfall they'll be linked if you let them; my ten have already learned yours are the only ones that fit.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

things my mama told me.

sailing over hills & diving into valleys brought my ears stories that my 6 year old self forgot to tell me. all of them were what mama used to say.

when my left torn hiking boot dragged up to its tromper sister at summit, i started to remember some of those things mama used to say. you know? i think that's what fall always does to us. it sits us down & shuts us up, & tells us all that we've forgot.

like staring down on the aspen gangs flashing their colors and making us stay. mama always used to say when leaves make aspen gold & everything slows that i'll need my flannel coat. she used to say that when the leaves let go and the branches do too that we need to decide what we hope is letting go of us too. she used to say a lot of things, but i've always loved the way she spoke of those trees.

& when that hawk spiraled & linked talon with branch i remembered why mama always used to say the view's always sweetest from the top. she always used to say that it'd make us remember how small we really are, and that thinking you're too big might crumble all the rest. she used to say that the view from the top doesn't mean you deserve anything more, just that you understand most things better than the creatures who choose to stay below.

i remembered a lot of things mama used to say while i scoped magic spires and wanderlust peaks. the most important thing i think had to of been what mama always used to say fall meant. she used to always say fall means we should let our lungs grieve and let ourselves be naked; she always used to say autumn's telling us to shed the bad and love our losses. i think fall reminded me today of what mama used to say, and today's the day i really feel it.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

the opposite of meaning.

lately i learned that seeking rather than creating means boxing rather than making. and i think i used to let boxing make most of my decisions.

this era, i've turned myself on my head with targets set at life with less meaning. i live a life steeped in repetition, drowned in circle dating, (circle dating's when you don't want to find love and you dream none of the other). in my creation, i've written that which i hope to never see/do/say when the sun sets on my days and my last chapter's sealed.

i think today i decided my head got lost in the summer bake and now the fall's bringing my heart back into my throat. now i want to start speaking my truth and letting my love bleed. i want the messiness of being lovesick and feet over head. now, i think i may have found i'm ready to create something that makes my mouth still and my chest ache again. who was i kidding with that meaningless bullshit? i'm addicted to love.

Friday, September 7, 2012

family.

the blood that i course proudly came from irish flight & god-only-knows-where links me to humans that made me into the woman i find in the mirror each morning.

this family always has meant celebrating with costume just because, & catching me when the world crashes into me and i'm near crashing into dirt. after three months of separation from the arms that have always been refuge, i found myself wondering how i ever manage to leave them. be it the arms growing daily of my beloved first grader or those attached to the womb that wrought my body with life, they will ever be my home...despite what my mailing address may be, & how many times those numbers & streets & avenues change each year.

i've also been blessed with families i've created, beyond those lines of lineage & ancestry. one of the most sacred had always been my family that called boulder home. we're made of many (giant & mini, tribe & mountain), and we have shared life in beautiful ways since the days our hearts met. but upon my return, my family greeted me with crossed arms & loathing, & my heart broke more deeply than i'd imagined.

family, i'd always believed, was unconditional. family i thought ignored zip codes & loved beyond separating highways; family i thought would love me despite when my road led afar. but here my newest lesson is painfully full of darkness; maybe this family isn't unconditional. may be their words of love were empty because they were silenced when my feet needed to stray to find their next stage. they say that i won't let them be characters, but they wouldn't allow me just the briefest guest appearance; instead, they chose hatred of my choices & my tears once met with embrace were left to crash in my hollow ears..

i guess i'm learning more about the different kinds of families we can make. & this time, i don't really like what i'm finding.