Growing up the hard way
byon 07-15-2010 at 12:17 PM (1385 Views)
This is my first real blog. Its also the first "real" day of a very new different life. Somehow I wanted to document, record and share the experience, as if to say "I am here, and this happened".
Trouble is, every time I begin blogging I lose my mojo. I hate talking in the first person. I find it rude, and so overly self involved. How do you blog when all you do is talk about yourself? I dont want to critique movies or music, or bad books, or bad food.
Today.......I woke up and breathed on my own. It was strange. I grabbed my IPOD to see what time it was, checked my cell for messages, rolled over, and looked around for the cats.
I could hear Chelsea's breathing from the next room, deep and even, inhale, exhale. Its a peaceful sound. I love knowing she's wrapped in sleep. I tiptoed over and watched her. Do you know she looks the same at 22 as she did when I watched her sleep from the moment she came into my life? Sleeping angels.
I slipped on a t shirt and shorts, slid my feet into a pair of flip flops, looked into Colm's empty room, and went downstairs. The coffee pot was calling me, so I filled its endless need to churn, huff and puff, and pour out my morning wake up.
I turned off the alarm, let the dog out, and stood at the back door gazing on Rivendell. Rivendell is a landscaping project I began in 2006. Its my faery land, my land of escape, the home of our very own spirituality. There are lilies upon lilies, hydrangea in an assortment of colors, and baskets of hanging flowers rescued from a greenhouse that tosses the poor things into the garbage.
I breathed deep....sort of a sigh of peace. Rivendell always brings me back to myself, and takes me out of myself all at once. I opened the door and stepped out onto the deck. Surveying the decay of plants, the fresh bloom of life, I began weeding my way through some very unwanted vines, and topping the daylilies of burnt out blossoms and pods.
I felt the call to come to work, just pull me out of the reverie. Marching slowly in with a backward glance to the garden oasis, I fired up smokin joe, my super computer, and here I am.
I survived the morning of day one. I smiled, I shed a tear, I laughed to myself, it felt good, real, and whole. I promise to make it last.