Manic Monday

Monday. I love Monday. I love the idea of Monday, the potential it holds. Almost feels like planning for a new year. Starting new, fresh, clean slate, rebirth etc., you get the point. Well, whenever it's not Monday that is. Ah, it's complicated. My relationship with Monday, terribly complicated. When it's not Monday, oh how I romanticize Monday. I do. I plan and I plot what I will do starting Monday. Grandios schemes, you can't imagine how good it to feels to know capability is only days away. The list is so long. The dreams, complicated and enormous. And before Monday, my god, I believe. Large things, lots of things will be moved and changed. Oh yes, all starting Monday.

Then my beloved shows up, too soon, too early. Why so early lover? Why? I'm not ready. I need more time. Just seven more days. Give me seven more days, please. I'll be ready for you, I promise. And this ain't lip service either. I know I've said it a million time before. It's just last night I had a late dinner with family and then it was just so hard to sleep. I had a lot on my mind. Oh and then I was dreaming all night. God, I'm not rested at all. Last night was rough. I'm so damn tired. Look, it's raining and cold. It's not really an enviroment conducive for creating change.

All that begging, pleading and negotiating for nothing. And I am severely underprepared for Monday's arrival because Monday comes too quickly, comes no matter what. Nothing ever holds Monday up. Nope. Punctual and to the point. Quick to remind me of my lack of commitment to anything. Damn you Monday.

I'm sorry, that was a bit harsh.

Maybe I've got it all wrong. Maybe it's not Monday I should be preparing for. Maybe, just maybe...call me crazy, maybe Tuesday is the actual do-over-day. Yeah, that makes perfect sense. December first falls on a Tuesday. Could there be a better start- your-life-all-over-again-day, I think not.

Sigh, Tuesday....hmmm, the plans I have for us.

All In My Head

I got it from him. The leg shaking thing. The jumping to conclusions. The quick to rip your head off with temper. And the guilt that comes moments later. All from him. And I must say I don't loath any of it.

We were sitting around having lunch. I had a friend in from out of town. He was so happy to hear she was from our home town. This was their second meeting that week. In the first meeting they discussed people they both knew and a bit about the landscape. I was happy he was happy. Things had been a bit strained in the last few weeks. Me, reading too much into absolutely nothing. My back has been up about and with everything. I know what it's all about, this "back up thing" but at the same time I don't have the slightest clue. This is transformation, welcome to it...ugh.

He was making a comment in jest and I reared my ugly head at it and at him and said something to shut it all down. I didn't even hear what the comment was. i just snapped. Then I turned to my life bearer who had lovingly prepared this lunch for us and told her I had had enough of this. She rolled with it, not unusual behavior for to witness from her youngest. Really what else could she do. She said, "Calm yourself child, you still have to come for me. To visit me." Thank god for second languages, I could at least hide my childish tantrum that was delivered in a somewhat adult way from my guest. She really didn't know anything was going on. For that matter neither did. But I'm sure the energy in the room had changed. Looking back I'm sure I had walked in with some of that energy. My back up, you see.

A short while after we had left, my mother called. I leaving her with my heaviness, see the unfairness in all this? Really, madness I tell you. She was checking in. She said all he said was "Why is she always shaking her leg like that?" I thought he was criticizing my communication skills or lack of. Funny, how fitting. After hanging up I was left feeling completely deflated by my poor behavior. What the hell is going on here?! I've been walking around on this planet thinking I am so evolved and then am slapped awake by own unsavory out putting of nasty energy to the ones I love. Not very evolved I say. Oh, how I wished I could go back in time and fix it. But I couldn't, I can't. And let me tell you I did torture myself for a number hours while walking around Granville Island. Carrying on a perfectly light conversation, all the while trying to figure out a plan on how I could make up for what I had done. Finally, I gave up. What else could I do. There was nothing else to do. Just surrender and let go. It's happened. Be gentle with yourself I thought, then I would be able to be gentle with everyone else.

This transformation thing I am going through is leaving a few bumps and bruises and not only on me. Duck and dodge when around me for the next little while or just stand back and have a good laugh. I promise, no offense will be taken. I am evolved you see.

Harry

I named him. I'm not sure where the name came from. He just felt like a Harry. Not that I know what a Harry feels like. But he is Harry. My Harry. She was generous. Oh she played tough. No, no, no, she protested. I had to brush off some serious negotiation skills. I thought they were long gone. Buy really, it is because she is so generous with me, so terribly sweet.

I blow into Harry and he hums a tune. In my mind and in Harry's mind we sound just like Miles. To the rest world they may consider ear plugs. It's a good thing Harry and I don't have a weak ego, no, ours is stellar. Untouchable. We just play on and on, collaborating with miles, in our minds. And that's just fine by us. Play on. Play on.

Mag Pie.

I love when she crawls over me and makes her way to one side of my body. Pushes up against it and finds her spot to curl up. I love that she chose me to be her family, accepts all that I bring. She's perfect and I'm flawed to no end. We make for a fantastic couple, we do. She's unlike any other. Often I look at her, amazed she's mine. Oh how I adore her. When I come home she calls to me from the balcony and then runs down the stairs to greet me. If I'm in the house and haven't seen for a bit I go seek her out. Most days she follows me around as I run up and down stairs doing chores.

They say you need to birth a child to feel such immense love. Well, maggie and I have proved them wrong, haven't we? I would most definitely say so.

Time Out.

All this rain. I love the rain but am craving a break from it all. I'm left with so little motivation for anything and there is so much to do. This sort of weather brings out the bear and all I want to do is hibernate. Make rustic comforting foods. Sip teas, coffee and wines. Read books, watch movies, converse with friends at length about the state of love and occasionally the world. And of course nap on my parent's couch. Unfortunately the world does not work that way and very little room is made for that sort frivolousness. Damn shame really. There are such demands to participate. And if you're not doing one million and one things you are a vast failure. Really? Is that sentiment so necessary? Maybe if we all just called out for a collective time out we would be little less stressed and a little less insane. The world is going mad and I get why. Time out!

Rain

It was an ugly umbrella. But it was given to me by someone who meant much. Someone had given it to him. A hand-me-down token of thoughtfulness...I don't know but I let the thing mean more to me than I ever should have. A few weeks ago the rain was coming down hard, a homeless fellow asked for change. Okay and would you like this umbrella, I asked. He was more than happy to take it off my hands and out of my life. I preferred the rain to that tacky awful umbrella. The thing really was ugly. I like umbrellas, I do but who in their right mind would have picked that pattern and color. No accounting for taste, really.

I've always allowed things that were given to me by people I love to mean more than they should. Sometimes an ugly umbrella is just an ugly hand-me-down umbrella that should continue to be passed on.