CHOICE. and Jessica E. Porter

Dear H.F.,

Today my life is different than it was yesterday. Yesterday we talked about choice and we spoke of it in two contexts. First, you showed me your muscle-y legs and told me you were running. You said that it had been a mental block for you for years and now you were running every other day and you liked it. I can't tell you how strong you looked yesterday, old friend. But it wasn't when you were showing off your defined calves. It was when you were making pancakes and talking about your garden. You stood there with your chunky necklace and your beautiful hair and your happy body and you seemed present. Present and alive and choice-filled. And then you stood in the bathroom by the sink while I swooshed around in the bathtub and we talked about a different kind of choice. We talked about choosing to commit and to work through the hard things and to love. Love is not random; it is chosen by us. Even more than running, this is our mental block. And we are pulling out our sledgehammers. That conversation changed me; I made a choice.

Jessica, today I ran for 2.3 miles. I didn't walk and I didn't stop.

Thank you,
T.S.

whoosh!

I feel like I just made it through the spin cycle of a washing machine. I'm a little wobbly, a little sick and a lot relieved to have made it through in one piece.

A Room of My Own

I am fraying. And rapidly. I can feel myself holding out for Spokane, for those twelve glorious hours alone in my car. And Spokane coffee shops! O glory.

I need my own room.

We may have a house (please please please)! And in that house is one room that would be all mine. I could go into it, close the door, sit in a corner and meditate if I wanted. or read. or call a friend. I am an intensely private person and it has been so hard for me to share every space. I need a corner with no one in it. A corner where me, myself and I can smile at one another, take a deep breath, let it out slowly and start putting the pieces back together.

(please please please)

I am slowly going crazy.
1 2 3 4 5 6
Switch!

Crazy going slowly am I.
6 5 4 3 2 1
Switch!

"I saw a life, and I called it mine."

"Stand here and name
the one you loved,
beneath the drifting ashes,
and, in naming,
rise above time,
as it, flashing, passes."

I'm alternately diving and dipping into this beautiful poetry, this achingly sweet music. Normally, I dislike my attempts to share my deep affection and understanding and connection with this woman because my words inevitably sound tinny, silly and shallow. But I need to try to share. and to tell you that I like being understood.

"This is a world of terrible hardship,
everywhere,
and I search for words
to set you at ease.
But there in the looking-glass,
a kite is soaring,
stilling my warring heart
and my trembling knees."

I'm struggling again with personal balance. I tend to not say the things I want to say when they need to be said. And I'm avoiding potential conflict and wishing for heart stillness. I'm off-kilter and yet steady as a rock. Making changes and resolving to keep them this time.

"I saw a life, and I called it mine.
I saw it, drawn so sweet and fine.
and I had begun to fill in all the lines,
right down to what we'd name her."

Joanna is helping.
And I'm thankful, thankful.
If you listen to this album, call me and we'll talk about it.
We'll sit and sigh.