different kinds of dreams.

It seems I’ve switched to a morning format for my weekend  posts and this morning the girls ARE in the bed probably against their better judgement as I’ve been waking in the night suffering the worst of this cold.

I think last night’s dreams were worth mentioning here because they were the kinds of dreams that you want to wake up and remember, not let roll off quickly before you can grasp them.

Last night I had dreams of swimming.  Which is a bit odd for me because I’m not a big swimmer.  But I was standing on the edge of a beach about to enter a competition.  Apparently it was one of three competitions (of which I dreamed of two) and there were only about ten people competing.  Though I guess it’s kind of pointless to say competing because as I spoke with my fellow competitors on the beach, we were all just hoping to finish and in addition felt a deep affection for one another for doing this together).  So there I was on a beautiful stretch of land getting ready to swim my heart out (and thinking why am I doing this, I don’t swim) and I was excited, bursting actually with excitement.  When the race started it seemed it was an odd sort of race that involved diving, then swimming in shallow waters and then climbing up and over rocks and then swimming again to get to the other side and back.  I have never seen this, but ok, it’s a dream.  The second leg of the race was on a different beach and this time it was evening.  I was standing in a hotel room and there were giant rock formations that the setting sun was throwing in silhouette along the beach (thinking now they reminded me of the rocks at Bay of Fundy, a must see if I do say so, if you’re ever in Atlantic Canada)

 image ohmycanada

I decided I needed to go photograph them while the light was just right so I headed out to walk down the beach with my camera.  As I walked down the beach trying to find a good shot there was suddenly someone beside me and I turned to them and pointed across to the left where there was a string of bright neon signs and fast food joints and said “see this, this is what is ruining things” and then I pointed across back to my Fundy rocks and the setting sun and the ocean and said “and this is what we are trying to save”.  And that is where I woke up.

In the way all dreams are this one didn’t make much sense.  The fact I went straight to my grandparents home from the first race or that there were a string of fast food joints across from my Fundy beach.  What was amazing about this dream was that all of the most important aspects of my life were all contained in this dream and in this dream itself I was so uniquely happy.

I was doing something I loved which was pushing myself and my body to become stronger and healthier.  I was on a beach next to an amazing ocean in both parts of the dream.  I had both Ed and my family there with me surrounding me in both parts and I was imparting to someone younger than myself the importance of staying away from that which is fake and unnatural for what is already whole and complete.

It may not mean much here looking at it on the screen, but it made an impact on me this morning.  I awoke with a smile and a feeling like if nothing else this dream was telling me I am on the right path.

in conversation.

photo credit:  fiji.islands-pictures.com

tonight was heavy in conversation.  the types of conversations that revolve around what life means to you and what it takes to have a meaningful life.  conversation on game changers and life alterers.  conversations that could go anywhere. conversations that take two people on opposite ends of everything and bring them closer.

they’re tough conversations, important but heavy with thought and consequences.

and through it all we keep smiling, and laughing, and loving each other.

and no one raises their voice or throws things.

we may just end up raising a family on a beach, wild unschooled children, cajoling the tourists for a living.

but i say fiji and he says belize.

so the discussions go on.

still waiting.

why does it seem that spring is so reluctant to make  her entrance this year?

easter is late and just two weeks away.  most of the earth here is still brown, the days still damp and chilly.

i long for warmth and color.

spring seems perched on the edge, just peeking around the corner, making me wait.

i myself perched and ready.

ready to jump, but not quite there.

there are climbing lessons, i haven’t dared to officially sign up for, scared my time won’t come through.

there are photos, to be reproduced, ideas floating in my head to be sold.

there is a book in progress, waiting for me to sit down and add another 3,o00 words to what is there.

there is a man, right now in Tennessee, who feels like family, but who is just out of my reach.

sometimes the waiting is the hardest part, when you feel greatness around the corner.

in time.  time is a teacher.

telling me, this is a path, but one with a direction.

giving me just a taste to hold on to, and keeps me thinking forward.

here

 

here is where he was standing, waiting for me to find the perfect shot.

again and again and again.

patient.

always waiting for me.  to find my way back again, to find my way across the mountains and plains, to find answers to the questions that hang there between us.

he is a patient man.

i never want to wait for anything.  impatient.

he says 58 days is not so long.

i roll my eyes.

here.

here is where he waits.

here is where i can’t stop thinking i want to be.

here is where i found bliss

in the feel of his hands stroking my hair,

in reaching out and having someone’s hand to hold,

in waking in the night assured he was there.

here.

in that one spot,

that spot where i rest my head

and know that everything is okay.

that place where my head fits into his neck

and i know i am safe.

and i know that here

is defined only as

this place,

this spot.

my safe place.

here,

this spot.

is where i can call home.

 

 

growing up.

 

my girl is growing up.

she picks out her own clothes.  if i lay something out she puts it away.  it doesn’t always make sense, but she’s got her own style and as long as she’s respectable, i’m not going to pick a fight there.

she has perfected the eye roll, and the sarcastic head wobble.  i’ve perfected the phrase “stop being a smart-ass”.

last week she had issues with a friend at school.  another friend was excluded and she stepped in and got the cold shoulder from the other friend about it. it threw her for a loop.  i wasn’t ready for catty friends until middle school, but here we are in 4th grade.  she didn’t really talk to me about it.  she emailed her best friend.  her best friend from kindergarten.   i am so glad she has a best friend confidante.  then she talked to Ed.  that’s right, apparently friend issues fall into Ed territory.

this last week she has had a few questions about her physical self.  apparently, body issues fall into my territory, thank goodness.

she’ll be 10 in nineteen days.

i’ve heard the stories my sister has told of frantic mothers running into the library asking for books for their nine and ten year olds caught by surprise by puberty.  i was shocked.  i guess i shouldn’t be.

i’m not ready for her to grow up.

but i realize i cannot be caught unaware.  so today this book collection came for her.  i’m reading it tonight in preparation before i give it to her.  it appears to be a good one.  american girl really puts out some good stuff for this pre-teen set.  she already has one of the books on friendship,  of course, i always turn to a book.

my mother gave a us a book.   it taught us a lot.

apparently it taught my younger brother a lot too.  my mother claims it’s how he got all the girls, with all of that knowledge.

but about my first-born.  i remember how sad i was when she was no longer a baby, a toddler, a preschooler, a kindergartner.  i remember my mother telling me every stage is a good stage and that they grow and change and you find new things to love about them.

for the past couple years, i’ve been watching as Nancy’s girls are growing into adults, and am in awe of her relationship with them.

i hope to have that.

in the meantime, i will cherish everything about the growing wonder of this stage of her life.  even the eye-rolls that i recognize as my own.

and then we’ll deal with the really tough issues.

 

 

just now 1.3.11

 

current time: 12:34 p.m, Sunday

in my mug: glass of iced tea, no sugar, with lemon.

in my belly: roasted portabello mushroom, with spinach, blue cheese and bread crumbs, lunch, feeling the draw back to whole foods, come on summer.

in my ears: “Full Moon“,  The Black Ghosts

on the table: my cell phone, two discs of Californication from Netflix, Emily’s MP3 player, a notebook, a list of photography books and a glass of iced tea.

on the editor: these photos of Karelyn from Thursday night, her Dad had cancelled, she was upset and so I gave in and let her watch a movie on a school night, and she was falling asleep through the end.

last watched: Rod Stewart on Piers Morgan, and thinking of my mother.  I love biography interviews, people fascinate me.

feeling good about: some more time alone with myself this weekend, girls at extended sleepover.

feeling bummed about: being so far away from the one person i want to be with.

last thing that made me laugh: Ed and I discussing the girls dating last night. I thought I was going to be bad.

and think: The Charter for Compassion, amazing work, amazing ideas, i could devote myself to stuff like this.

 

 

Processing

I’m still trying to take it all in.  It might be a bit before I have the words.  How wonderful it was to travel.  How amazing it was to be carefree, to rest, to relax into a slow pace.   How easy it was to be with him.  How beautiful it was there.  How much deeper things have gone.   How much I think I learned about myself and my life in just five days.  Each of these is a post in itself.  I’m sure it will be coming.

blessed.

{these beautiful gifts from my daughters, are all the gifts i need}

Yesterday was one of those days I realize how lucky I am.  I am surrounded by so many people who love and appreciate me for who I am.  It was my birthday yesterday, two cakes over the course of two days at work, the one I posted yesterday was a three-layer chocolate cake my friend Karen made and then one of our members at the credit union brought another, a citrus-y yellow cake I’ll share tonight.  Everyone at work made my day special.  A couple of our members sang  ”happy birthday”, including a duet by 70 somethings Mr. and Mrs. Rice.  One of our members, one of the firefighters, offered to dance for me.  I politely declined.  I love these people who surround me everyday Monday-Friday.  Somedays, like most everyone else, it is hard to get up and get out the door, but really, these people that I work with and serve are delightful.  I have had a lot of jobs, but by far this is the best one yet.

Facebook messages went on for pages, a card from my best friend, a card and delightful gift from Lisa and then on my birthday, a card from Debbie all the way from England and it arrived ON my birthday, I look forward to a new project with her in May.  Ed’s card arrived in the afternoon, certain to make me cry.  Tonight the celebration continues, McKinney style at my Mom’s, which means, taco salad fixings and Coronas with limes spread out  across the tables, our standby meal for when we all get together.  My sister and brother both there, along with my grandparents, and my brother’s friends.  This will be a joint party as it has been pretty much off and on for the last twenty-four years, when my brother came along fifteen years and five days behind me.  I love to share birthdays with him.

In the past I knew I shared my birthday with my cousin’s ex-husband and my really scary middle-school English teacher, but found out last night I also share my birthday with that amazing force called Queen Latifah, love her and all her beautiful energy and drive, her celebration and success at doing things her own way and succeeding. Have always loved her not more so when she starred in one of my favorite books ever, turned movie.

Last night the girls made their appearance finally in the school variety show.  I love the girl’s school, it’s principal, it’s teachers, their enthusiasm and dedication, I could not buy an experience any better for them.  Weeks and weeks of practice three times a week paid off as their performance was flawless, though it didn’t matter as all those children standing on stage, in elementary school, putting their growing talents out  for all to see, wowed me in a way that reminds me to have courage.  There was no lack of support as the entire family turned out, the girls applauded and hugged and kissed by not only both their parents, but their full load of grandparents and great-grandparents as well.

I hugged the girls, commended their friends, talked with other parents, my own family and walked out into a balmy evening with no coat, going home finally to a glass of wine and  the last conversation with Ed on the phone, him being here the only thing that could have made the day any better.  In five days I will finally step on the plane and celebrate another birthday, his, with him.

I am blessed.  Beyond measure.  I keep reaching outside myself to find greatness when all I have to do is look around me and see that it all lies right here in a life so full and rich, who could ask for more.  Or as Queen Latifah says in that favorite movie, “there’s love all around you, don’t ever be afraid, WE are enough”.

two weeks.

72 days down.  14 to go. 

 

those moments.

{from my walk this weekend, no snow and some green shoots}

This year I vowed to get  a photographic education.  I was not satisfied with the quality of the non-credit photo classes here locally (Photography In Natural Light at 6:00 pm in winter?), so I picked up some photography books that caught my eye and showed potential to  give me those technical bits and pieces I seem to be lacking.  When we start talking about formats, and pixel sizes etc, etc, etc my mind gets a bit befuddled.

Sometimes I look at my photos and I wonder why am I taking these? What purpose comes from me having this photo on file along with the hundreds upon hundreds of others.  Then I remember what I set out to do in the beginning of this year.  I want to learn and grow artistically, but really my main purpose is to document this life.

{the day we said forget everything else and painted all afternoon}

I find it a wonderful thing that one day my children will look back and they will have a visual reminder of the  random things that lie beyond  what their memories can carry.  Memories they can peruse and remember fondly.  I like having documentation that there are simple things in this life that make me happy, like water droplets clinging to a leaf after a refreshing rain, or the first sign of a daffodil peeking out promising spring.

I think I need to remind myself that photography must be like this blog here.  I don’t blog for anyone else but myself.  It’s nice that there are people who stop by interested in my journey, but in the end, it’s B.W.O. like on the sidebar here, Blogging Without Obligation.  As much as I have hopes and dreams that maybe someday I could do something a little more with my photography, I think perhaps I need P.W.O.  Photographing Without Obligation.

{my brother on Christmas evening, before I sat on him and disrupted his sleep}

It wasn’t the  proficiency of the masters that made me want to pick up a camera.  It was the people here, here, here and here, that first started the yearning.   It was the bloggers that first opened my eyes to what a photo can mean and they were doing that with moments in everyday life.  That is what drives me to pick up the camera.

{my kitchen windowsill Thanksgiving morning}

There are two things that have stirred my photographic ambitions recently and they have nothing to do with technical prowess.  The first is the book Visual Poetry by Chris Orwig and I am eating this book alive.  The second is the Slice of Life project which I have as of today officially joined for April.  Both of these things reminded me why I picked up a camera in the first place.  Both of these make me feel I know that picking up the camera is the same as when I sit down here to write.  It is to grab the everyday.  Those everyday moments that are barely here before time pulls them away so fast.

{a moment, Karelyn reading to Annabelle}

I am going to read the books and continue to learn.  I am quite far from being a Photoshop queen, but I know that photography came to me with a purpose just as  writing this blog has.  It is a reminder to stop and reflect and see the goodness that surrounds me.  To have a record that this was the way life was, and this is the way it is unfolding.   On the road to finding peace and acceptance (my word this year) I am glad I have a way of training my mind to stop racing ahead and just accept what is.  To know that you don’t need something spectacular, that everyday life itself is exquisite.