BE

I'm too alone in the world, yet not alone enough
to make each hour holy.
I'm too small in the world, yet not small enough
to be simply in your presence, like a thing—
just as it is.

From the Book of Hours I, 13

From A Year with Rilke

I have been absent for some time on the blog. I am going to try and get back into it. Here are several things bouncing around in my mind. Also a short update of life at present.

(borrowing from my good friend Sassy Sap, I compiled a list for you)

1. Learning to be mindful of life--pain and pleasure

2. On a vegetarian diet

3. Going to start taking care of myself: vitamins, better eating, exercise

4. I'm addicted to Twitter

5. Going to get a tattoo. Now in the process of designing and deciding on placement. 

6. Feel at one with my straight hair...like it is who I am!

I hope you are all well and I'm  hopeful for a summer full of sun, beach, good books, writing and continued growth.

Cheers,

Annie

 

Thirty-Three and Me

Today is my Birthday! Hurray! Woot! Hollar!
ummmmmm....I think I'm happy about turning 33?

I really don't feel extremely happy or depressed about it. I just am. After having kids birthdays don't seem so special for me anymore. And after your milestone years of 21 and 30 there's not much to look forward to except 40! AND THAT is something I DO NOT want to think about yet.

Though I feel complacent about turning 33, I am looking forward to my weekend escape. Under the guise of "birthday weekend" I'm ditching the laundry, broom, apron, minivan and kids for an airplane headed to San Francisco! Visiting my baby brother and enjoying one of the more amazing cities in the USA. The last time I spent any significant time in the City was three years ago with "my girls" for our 30th birthday. THAT was a trip I will NEVER forget....

Now three years deep into the 30's, a little wiser and more self confidant I return to the City to see family, friends and enjoy all she has to offer. I relish these escapes I get from life...vacations...get-a-ways....time off. I hold them close and count the minutes until the next time.

So cheers and I'll see you when I return!

Signed,
Annie

Jealous

I jealously look at you and your seeming freedom.
The confidence in which you walk and talk about religion, art...life.
Effortlessly converse about non-esistance.
You travel from here to there without a care.

I jealously want to be you for a time. See the world as you see her.
With an eye of wonder and delight.
Grasping for understanding from those that can't quite explain.
Throw your inhibitions out the window and stand in the rain, naked.

I jealously admire you. The path you chose was not an easy one.
You reached the end with scars, they are beautiful.
How did you survive? Where did you find the strength?
Up and back again traversing the open fields of life.

I jealously love you.


-Annie

Absent

I know I have not written in sometime. Life got busy. Between the kids, house work, and work-work  I'm not finding a lot of time to sit and write. I'm missing it and feeling an itching to do so....
Of course today I am already running out of time!!! So I post this song that has been a great comfort as of late.









I'm learning to tear the walls down....turn the gun away from myself (meaning stopping the beating-myself-up-for-every-little-mistake mindset).


Until I have time to write again......


Don't let your soul get lonely, child..
it's only time; it will go by.
Don't look for love in faces, places —
it's in you; that's where you'll find kindness.

Signed,

Annie

Judgement

Allow your judgments their own undisturbed development, which, like any unfolding, must come from within and can by nothing be forced or hastened. Everything is gestation and then birth. To allow each impression and each embryo of a feeling to complete itself in the dark, in the unsayable, the not-knowing, beyond the reach of one's own understanding, and humbly and patiently to await the dawning of a new clarity: that alone is the way of the artist—in understanding as in creating.

~ Rainer Maria Rilke

Viareggio, April 23, 1903

Letters to a Young Poet

I've shared of this poet, Rainer Maria Rilke, before and again his words move me. I read this and froze with the quiet peace that comes from understanding. That kind of understanding that you already knew somewhere in your soul but had yet to put words to. 

It is funny because just yesterday I was speaking with a friend about judgement, righteous anger, opinion, and the process of finding who you are. No conclusion was discovered in that conversation other than it is a process to self  and other acceptance. Then  when reading what Rilke had to say especially here:"...allow each impression and each embryo of a feeling to complete itself in the dark, in the unsayable, the not-knowing, beyond reach of one's own understanding..." To allow ones self this slow process of understanding; like the way an embryo slowly takes 9 months to grow to a baby that is then birthed with pain into LIFE drew deep and meaningful imagery for me. (difficult to explain in words, but easily felt as a mother)

Then again he prods us to "patiently await the dawning of a new clarity..." This habit of patience is to be practiced and valued above the harshness that we are shown and taught from this a young age. In this aggressive and fast-paced world of competition, dark judgement, and self rejection it is a challenge to slow to the quiet patience Rilke speaks of. To suspend judgement and let it form in you quietly, this is what I want to practice.

Slowing to understanding and creating,

Annie

Look

When I decided to change my hair, I had no idea how much it would actually alter my appearance and my feelings of self. We as woman are always thinking of our look. Clothes, make-up but mostly HAIR. It is our "crown of glory"that can alter our appearance most dramatically I think. A week ago I took a brave step and got my hair straightened...the Brazilian blowout. Nervous, I was not sure what to expect. My long curly locks might withstand the chemical treatment and I could end up looking like a frizzy chia-pet. Or would I hate the straight locks and cry over the loss of my signature curls? Would everyone look at me in horror? Did I care what anyone thought? No, not really. I was doing this for myself. I had landed a new job, was making my own money and I wanted a treat. I had given up going to a real salon for 4 years. I had stopped pampering myself in this way, partly because of money, but more of a way of self punishment. Self-sacrafice that I thought was necessary to be the unfussy demure woman. All it did was make me feel like shit. I stopped feeling sexy, stylish, and cute. So there I was getting my "hair-did" and I really didn't care how it turned out I was embracing the process and excited for the results.

 Here I am the day of! I couldn't stop smiling. I looked in the mirror and saw someone different....I saw the diva within.

Everything felt new...my clothes, my glasses, my make-up....ME. I felt fresh and free! This was LIBERATING. Who would have thought that getting rid of the curls would feel so damn good!?

It seems now that letting go of the old Annie hairstyle was fitting....it represented letting go of the old Annie too.  These past two years have been tumultuous..a growing time for me. An evolution of me. Now I slowly and tentatively walk into my new self.

Let's see where it leads....

Signed,

Annie

Twitter and Rilke

I've started tweeting. It began for work and now it has become a past-time verging on an addicting activity for me. Though much of it has been fun musings and interactions I have also come across some great information....even inspiring....

One thing I started doing was "following" artist/writers/poets/film makers/musicians. I believe I do this in an effort to surround myself with these people that are compelled to create. I don't fancy myself as any of the above or to be the creative type. I am insecure about my artistic sensibilities. What I do know is that I want to learn about this creative-process. I want to enmesh myself around creativity. I want to see and feel it my bones.

I came across this blog "A Year with Rilke" and this poem. Over the past 2 days I have left it open on my computer and have read it over and over again. It has invaded me. Each time I'm seeing and feeling something new in its words and stanzas. In the darkness of the reality there is such beauty and hope.

Posted from "A Year with Rilke"

Want the change. Be inspired by the flame
where everything shines as it disappears.
The artist, when sketching, loves nothing so much
as the curve of a body as it turns away.

What locks itself in sameness has congealed.
Is it safer to be gray and numb?
What turns hard becomes rigid
and is easily shattered.

Pour yourself out like a fountain.
Flow into the knowledge that what you are seeking
finishes often at the start, and, with ending, begins.

Every happiness is the child of a separation
it did not think it could survive. And Daphne, becoming a laurel,
dares you to become the wind.

Sonnets to Orpheus II, 12


Signed,

 Annie

Living with Women

I read an opinion piece the other day about Lesbian households. The writer argued that Lesbians tend to be happier couples because the distribution of work comes pretty close to even. 


"studies have shown time and time again that no matter how progressive and feminist and smart and supportive a husband is, it’s still very statistically likely that he does less than 50% of household chores, regardless of the division of labor outside the home between he and his wife. But the upshot of that is that most American women have developed a pretty insane skill set as far as balancing demanding jobs out of the home as well as the demanding job of doing all the work inside the home, on top of caring for a family. When both heads of the household are women, that’s a lot of skills being brought to bear."


Truth! Whenever my sister is over or my mother comes to stay things get done. Dishes cleaned, floors get swept, trash taken out, laundry folded and put away, kids dressed, hair combed. It all gets done without a plea having to be sent out or even a word uttered. 


Maybe I am going to start living with women? It's a thought. At least I will be living with someone who comes with some of the same ideas and perspectives on life. For instance she wouldn't walk over toys 100 times and still NEVER put them away. I wouldn't have to have an emotional breakdown every time I become overwhelmed with the burden of caring for the family. Why, because she would be right by my side doing it all with me. 


I do joke here, I am not going to live with women, but it is a thought to be considered, like I stated in the last post.....Why do we allow these men to get away with doing 50% less than us? SERIOUSLY!


Signed,
I wish my husband was a woman,
Annie

Equality?

Are we as women truly treated equally? I am serious here. Take a moment and think about it? Does society treat us fairly? Do we treat each other fairly?

I have written before about ROLES and I have ranted about them too. As I write this I don't rage or rant rather I ask the serious question if we as women are doing ourselves a disservice when we take on the majority of the work load for our families. I see this played out all the time. I know there are exceptions to the rules, and I love seeing those, but mostly I see us women working our asses off to please our men, care for our children, ourselves, and our friends. We do it all! Once we were the 50's housewife. Now we are that AND some!



Here is my inventory:


I organize (5 peoples LIVES and SHIT)
I clothe 5 people
I research my interest
I manage the social, medical, and work calendars
I am the party planner
I am the family photographer
I discipline
I listen to music
I manage 3 children's schedules
I manage the household nutrition (menu plan, shop, cook)
I am the family finance manager
I work
I keep us connected to friends
I veg out on TV
I file
I educate

And I am sure much more. You see that we as women juggle a tremendous amount in our lives. Even without children we juggle a lot. ALL while having washed hair, a little rouge on, and fashionable attire. We make concerted efforts to connect with our friends and family. We are constantly feeling and doing. We don't shut down often, because if we do our worlds would fail. And what has this done? What have we really accomplished? Have we just perpetuated the inequality in society? We have forced everyone to be reliant on us; children, men, friends, family.

I like to think of myself as liberated yet I see I am not. I don't allow equality to enter my life. I WANT TO DO IT MYSELF. I like the punishment maybe? I certainly like the control!

I can't anymore. I refuse to DO IT ALL. I refuse to become the martyr. Today I demand of myself no longer an A+ lifestyle or the I-can-do-it-all woman. I accept B-. I do what is needed and let the rest go. (NOT going to be easy for me, but I have to. I have to force equality this way. I have to find a balance. I accept my responsibilities but will not take on more than that. Or more than I can handle).

Let's see how it goes.

Signed,
Searching for equality Annie

Raging Storm

The rain pours down hard. The sky lost its blue beauty and rushed to grey all to quickly, I didn't even have time to say goodbye. I started to feel a bit reflective...

Lately I've been forced to confront the central issue of what this blog has become: Life Does Not Turn Out Like You Planned. We all grow up with dreams and hopes. Constructing visions of what our lives will be like. Some of which are created from desire, but at the same time greatly influenced by what society tells us we 'should' desire. Then we move forward and make choices. We follow a path laid before us. And then LIFE....boom...we are living it.  We are on a path built out of part choice. I say part, because do we REALLY truly choose our lives or are they chosen for us? (Well at least up to a certain point. Meaning I didn't choose to have a divorced family. I didn't choose my religious upbringing, etc. You get where I am going.) How do you reconcile when the life you lead does not match up to the life you imagined and created in your dreams? Isn't that one of the big questions we all have? Isn't that where the tension of life lies? For me it is, and maybe for you too.

What do we do with that tension? I have no idea.
What I do know is this. I choose to start taking control of my life choices. I choose to find happiness where ever I can. I realize I must work through my past in the present. I cannot live in the 'what if', regret, or in the promises of the future. I must grasp the moment I am in. I must embrace who I was and who I have become. The truth is that I would not be ME without the past and the present.

As the storm rages on outside my window and I meditate under the glow of this computer screen, I take joy in knowing the storm inside me just might be calming.

Signed
Annie

Howl

Recently I watched the movie Howl. I initially was drawn to watch because of James Franco, my new actor crush. Then I read that it was about one of our great American poets, Allen Ginsberg. Over the last year or so I have started to read a bit of the beat writers....I find them fascinating and intriguing. The freedom of their voice, the fluid way in which they wrote, thought, lived. Admittedly I am not one that leans to the creative. I also don't have a long history or knowledge of literature. I want to learn more and soak it all in. (There are days I wish that I had paid more attention to what I found interesting in my younger days. Let my impulse and interest direct me more than my obligations and perceived expectations. Then I may have become a student of the world. Though, NOW I can do that...)  All that to say that after watching the movie I wrote. Nothing thought out but released. As Ginsberg explains, from the inside....

Letting go

Letting be

Letting live

Realizations met, expectations lost.

Stand and stare.

Fleeing from me....pushed out. Grief that there is no longer pain and sadness. 

Escaped like a vapor.

Window from inside I glare. Letting go of...

Da-Da-Da-Da

Life goes---movement---flow

grabbing the moment, expressing it, holding it. 

Da-Da-Da-Da

Rolling and moving. 

They create. The live. They watch and move.

Obligation to none.

Da-Da-Da-Da

Letting go.

Letting be.

Letting in.

Push.

Pull.

I look out the window beyond that ivy wall. There lives life.

Vapors. Away.

No longer there and thats why I cry.

No longer sorry. 

The comfort.

The crow flew over. He has been absent.

Talk and fly.

Da-Da-Da-Da

Beyond the ivy wall the crow lived and moved.

Da-Da-Da-Da

Life goes on all around.

Obligation or impulse?

Both.

I Howl to no one. I Howl from within. The place that neither crow, nor man, nor woman has seen or heard.

Frightening myself.

My feelings flee from me. Consume me.

A vapor beyond the ivy wall.

Same. Same. Same. Same. Same. Same.

Da. Da. Da. Da. Da.

Beyond the ivy wall.

The same here. There. Everywhere. Same. Stir the noodles.

Cry. Pray. Wake. Sleep. Pray. Cry. We're the same.

Vapors of feelings standing behind windows. Feeling.

Push and pull.

Pull. Obligations pull.

Push. Impulse pushes.

Da. Da. Same. Same. Da. Da.

Letting go. 

Letting be.

Letting live.

Beyond the ivy wall I want to be.

There is a howl from inside I feel stir in me frequently. I have not identified exactly what it means to me or my life but I am starting to listen and express its sentiments.

As my ipod rolled songs this one came on....aptly titled "Howl."

Signed,

Annie

Exercise and Therapy

I realize I just stopped writing about the accident in this blog (or I just stopped writing altogether, again) but I am still reliving that tragedy, mentally...and physically.

One of the positive consequences of the accident was I started taking care of my body more. And as my dad taught me, exercise for the body, is exercise for the mind.

The first step was to seek physical therapy before I tried to start working out again. Since I was struggling mentally and physically, I was referred to a practioner in Beverly Hills to have CST work done (cranial sacrial treatment), which helps with healing of the mindy and body. Not only were my legs and pelvis and head and neck being adjusted and realigned, so too was my mind, as the practitioner forced me to address the mental chaos that was causing physical discomfort. He was seaking to heal me mentally as well as physically.

I always knew there was a connection between the body and mind but I never was so in tune with how body reacted to my emotions. I finally understood what my therapist was asking all those times when she would say, "So how does your body feel?" And I would answer, "Um, my fist is clenched?" Duh, I didn't know. For example, stress usually causes a headache and neck and shoulder tension. Fear and anxiety can cause stomach discomfort and irritable bowel syndrome. Anger can cause my chest to feel strained. But there was so much more my body was doing after the accident. so that after a few adjustments, it was as if I was blessed with a miracle worker and I was practically healed in body and mind.

After just three sessions, my back and neck were feeling better and I was less emotional. Finally I was learning to cope with the accident.

Very soon after I was able to get back in the gym and started with yoga and pilates. Since I still did not have a car, I was forced to get a ride to the gym and spend more time there than I ever would have had I not been waiting for a ride. Trust me, it was far better than having to be at home, stuck with the Roommate. The gym was on the way home for one of my co-workers, and if I wanted to catch a ride with her, I had to leave work early. And that's when Brad was getting off of work really late, so, I found myself working out sometimes 2 to 3 hours. Stretching, Elliptical machine, pilates. Then my strength started returning and I began"spinning" before Pilates.

I would not say I was in the best physical shape, but it was nice to still be slim rather than immobilized and feeling sorry for myself. Believe it, or not, I actually miss having an excuse to spend so many hours at the gym. Having a car again means that I am happily back to kickboxing while still managing to do pilates once a week, but now, I go in for my class and leave the gym immediately after. Also, I come away from kickboxing hurting a bit in my back and knees, which is a reminder of the accident and that it left me vulnerable to further injuries in those areas if I am not careful and I overdo it.

And emotionally? I would say that I am stable. Kickboxing is great for getting out any aggression I feel on bad days. And speaking of, I could really use a kickboxing class now while sit furiously blogging because of the Roommate. I'll kickbox now in my mind. Target = The Roommate. Upper cut, jab, roundhouse. Again. Upper cut, jab, roundhouse....

Driving Me Crazy

I have to blog right now or else I am going to explode with anger and annoyance all at once. It does not help that I am PMSing. THE ROOMMATE. That is all I have to say.
No, that is not all I have to say. I avoid him as much as possible, and usually I can get away with it. But today, I had to talk to him. And I always say that if I spend even 5 minutes in dialogue with him something will come out of his mouth that will expose the boundaries he crosses on a daily basis and the infection he creates in this household. He has his opinions about Brad and always thinks that I want to hear them. For example, Brad went hunting with his dad this weekend and the Roommate said he just could not see Brad in hunting gear. And then the topic went into shopping, because Brad is a shopper and that is something more he can be seen doing. Then I started to share how I do not care much for shopping, I would much rather sit outside the mall on a bench with a book and wait for Brad, and that I didn't even know major labels until I graduated college. That's when the Roommate said, almost completely out of context, but yet strangely in it, that he just didn't understand guys who wear designer boxers. I knew he was talking about Brad....still. Because, yes, he does wear designer underwear, not boxers, but the briefs. Even so, why does he always have to be so obsessed with Brad. Last week he was wearing his slippers "because their comfortable" and now he pays attention to the type of underwear my man has on.
I am sooo not done.
After I have been gone ALL day, I get home ready to relax and read, but who is sitting smack in the middle of the couch, SICK, of all things to be while taking up the space in the living room. Damn it. He should be in his room. He has a TV (that we gave him, a big flat screen) and cable, so wouldn't he want to be up there so not to spread germs. SO where am I forced to go, the bedroom.
Then Brad gets home from his trip and wouldn't you think that THEN the Roommate would think to go upstairs - at 7p - so that Brad and I could enjoy an evening together in Brad's house. No, of course not. So, we go downstairs to start cooking dinner and I take my reading materials to the kitchen table and the Roommate asks, "Are you cooking dinner?" "Um Yeah," Brad says. Roommate says, "Well I'm cooking dinner soon and will need the oven."
FUCK ME!
And Brad says, "We'll be done soon." Seriously, no, we'll be done never and deal with it, is what I wanted to scream.
So the Roommate prepares a salad and takes it back up to the TV and I hear him sniffling and coughing and the TV just blaring. Needless to say that we just had our carpets cleaned and now we need to do the couch because the Roommate has stained both when eating in front of the TV. So did he go up there and eat with a tray? NO!
The second we finished eating dinner, the Roommate comes into the kitchen and is trying to make dinner around me as I'm washing dishes. I could not even say a word to him. I could not look at him. I want to scream.
And hear I am screaming with my fingers!
How is it that Brad and I are over our 30s, living together...with a Roommate. The extra money is nice for Brad I am sure, but I never, ever want to be home. "Home." Yeah, right. This is not home until the Roommate is gone.
At least I got a raise this past week. The future is looking brighter.
-
MJ

Lotus

This journey of life is all consuming. There are times of bliss and hate. Of naivety and compliance. You run the spectrum in a lifetime. Some handle life well and with grace. Others muddle through. I fall into the later group. For much of my short 32 years in this life I have followed. I complied to what was told and expected. I performed like a trained dog in a circus, jumping thru hoops and jumping over obstacles. I was good at doing it too. I blended well and fit in, I conformed. I lived what I thought was an existence of happiness, until everything changed....

One year ago I sat in a spa and wept. I had no idea why. My mind was blank, absent of thought or emotion. I had been in therapy for 10+ years and had never wept like this. I felt disconnected from life...people, my husband, my children. I was unhappy and didn't know why. Fuck, I had a handsome man who was successful, 2.5 children (dog included), a huge house, a fancy car, beautiful friends, boobs, and the appearance of PERFECT. Fuck, I was living the American Dream! What the hell did I have to complain about? Nothing. Not one god damn thing. But still I found myself there....

Now after a year I am taking control. Of life and emotion. I am learning to own who I am and what I am,what I may become. How I may fail. How I WILL succeed. Once, someone told me about the story of the lotus......a flower that thrives in the muck....comes out of ugliness to become something beautiful and spectacular. That is what this year has been. I am not there....I may never get there, but it is what I strive for. To find beauty within...and in others...and in the difficulty of life, of mundane....in the challenge...in the serenity and peace that we sometimes find in quiet moments. Possible? I sure hope so. That's where I am headed. Deep breaths, acceptance of love and a determination to break the cycle of self loathing. This is where I go this year.....

Signed,
Annie

Where I'm Going

My last post was a poem and it was something that I had not planned on writing, instead it poured out of me. I hadn't experienced this kind of "thing" before. I don't consider myself one prone to artistic sensibilities. Yet, there I found myself writing about my heart and soul...


Anyway some of you that occasionally read this blog have responded with what I can only see as love. Instead of it scaring you off into avoidance you sent me love. You see I have a hard time showing vulnerability because I tend to see it as weakness. (I don't like to appear weak.) Though over these past two years and especially in the past 3 months I realize I am full of raw unapologetic emotion.  And this emotion I have does not make me weak it makes me human and ALIVE.


You that have reached out to me and have stood by me through it all I dedicate this song to you.You have taken my hand because you know what I am going through. 


Some of you have had loss...loss of a pregnancy, marriage, or friends. Others have seen tragedy. Others dealing with chronic illness. Even a near death experience or a mother who's fought off cancer. You, my friends, have showed me that no matter what life brings in our paths we can stand together. So I offer you my hand because I know what you are going through...






Signed, 
Annie


Where I'm going I don't know but come with me...