bootiful

thursday afternoon and i come home to an empty house.  everyone else, including the dogs, are at a friend's house, and i have moments to myself.

i'm just letting that sink in a bit here.

today i woke up and put on my new/old doc martens that i just got for mother's day.  i also put a flower in my hair, because i'm determined to do that more now that i'm forty.  i'm going for a signature look here.  this could be it.

i used to own another pair of docs, but gave them away long ago.  these were the ones that i bought in london when i met my husband.  i was so proud of those shoes.  they were dark maroon, black laces, big and clunky and perfect, and they made me feel like i could take anyone, anyone, anyone down who messed with me.  i wore them with granny dresses for years.  they were gorgeous.

i saw this new pair at the pasadena flea market last weekend, and i knew that they had to be mine.  i was with my friend amber, who prefers heels, and who has been my own personal fashion guru for many years now.  however, much as she tries, she can't take away the overalls/baggy/clunkyshoe core of this girl.  and when she saw me try them on and i lit up like the july 4th sky, she said she hadn't seen me that happy in a while.

is it wrong to be in love with a pair of shoes?

i'm not denying that their power is more about how they make me feel.  i am on solid ground when i wear them.  i am straight and tall and full of insight about this world, and i really like myself.  all it took was some wrangling with the two fine gentlemen who were selling them (okay, maybe i fluttered an eyelash or two), and $15 bucks later i was in possession of self-confidence.

strange how it happens sometimes.

there is a demand inside of me right now to take care of myself.  i seem to be doing this in several ways. for starters, i'm trying out some anti-depressants for the first time in my life.  this is a big deal to me.  it was not a decision i entered into lightly but i felt like it was time.  so here i am, slightly medicated.

i'm also going to the gym, that beloved little ymca right down the road from me, and doing the circuit machines while listening to the same songs over and over.  i think "shuffle" is a crock, by the way.  i have over 900 songs on that ipod; how come i have to hear britney spears' version of "i love rock and roll" every single time, and sometimes twice?  (i didn't put it on there.  just to be clear).

i'm also writing again, trying to gently tell myself with each word i type that i have to say.

for today, it seems like i do.  and it can best be summed up by this: whatever it takes, whatever form it comes in, i am sitting here with open arms awaiting the joy i think i deserve.

so for today, i sit down on my chair and gently unlace my boots, grateful for their support, knowing that  the weight of them was a constant reminder of the pull of gravity.  it is enough for today to just know that i am awake and walking on this earth.

teeter-totter

well hello there.

jeepers, its been a long frickin' time since i've written anything in this here space.  a long time since i've been writing anything of any interest at all, save for my little "thank you" journal that sits on my bedside box/table.  i seem to have spent the last few months feeling that i have nothing worthy to say or to share, which is a cryin' shame.

i've been sucked back into facebook like someone paid me to scroll down the posts every day, and i'm not sure it makes me feel so good about myself.  i cannot seem to manage a casual relationship with that service.  facebook makes me feel like i need it, several times a day, like some sort of weird boost that claims to give you the right kind of attention.

i'm pretty sure its the wrong kind of attention.

still, i stay on it, for the occasional brilliance of my friends and the videos that make me swoon and the comedy that unintentionally unearths itself there.  maybe its worth it.  maybe not.  for now, i stay, until i find a better way to feel like someone is listening to me.

things are percolating inside of me right now.  i'm trying to figure this shit out, trying to come to grips with turning forty and feeling that i am just on the cusp of discovering something new about myself.  or at least hoping that's what is happening; otherwise this approaching feeling of doom/fear/excitement/anxiety is too much for one girl to take.

i feel like i'm finally growing up.

and i'm curious to know what that looks like for others.  for me, it is this seesaw in my head, the one that tips from one side of my personality to the other.  on one side, i have come to grips with my life as it is: i realize i'm a good mother, great teacher, decent wife, all-around okay human being.  on the other side, i try and try to find what i am missing, and there is a feeling of constant searching and longing that can't quite be quenched.  on this side i berate myself for all of the passions that have since been lost to me.  remember when i wanted to work with adolescent girls and save them from the scourge of our patriarchal society?  how about when i believed that collaborative theatre could bring new awareness of women's rights?  or later, when i did nothing but think about how my family could downsize and live simply, with every action dictated by the thought of helping to save the planet?  how could one girl have so much belief that she could change things and then simply let that part of her fade away while the rest of her life took over?

that's the question.  i look at all of these people who have done something of substance, who make a difference with their lives, and i wish i was one of them.

i know being a teacher is a less glorious actualization of that--making a difference--but still.  still.  i miss that feeling that i have something inside of me that is necessary and important to this planet.  i wish i had the other part of that--the fuel that keeps me moving forward and finding a way to make it all happen.

but who's to say that this simple-enough existence of mine isn't worthy or beautiful enough by itself?  who's to say that my crooked little heart and decidedly imperfect yet kickass body and this soul of mine that longs to connect with others, and feels things with a dive-down-deepness that i can't truly explain--who's to say all of it doesn't combine into exactly who i am meant to be?

certainly not me.  i'm not ready to give up on myself yet.

and hey, thanks for reading this again.  i've promised myself that i will write every other day now, so let me know that you're out there.  it does a girl good.