Yi Yi Yi

I'm a Frito Bandito...

                                                        Just had to write that. I'm dating myself!

I needed to write to CONNECT. I miss our conversations and yet I feel our connection, us creative thinking heart women webbed around the world, opening and closing with the tide of life.

I'M STILL ALIVE and I'm actually, well, great. And good. Certainly stronger. More even-keeled. Learning heaps. Playing more! As the sun returns to the misty NorthWest, so does my life force.
Being divorced is becoming part of me, it's truth is being metabolized. For example, when I talked to my neighbor on the ferry Tuesday about my new life without Chris, I felt (mostly) like I was talking about myself and not some alien life force. I'm beginning to feel less like divorce is inconceivable. Oh sure, there are moments when, out of the blue, I wondered who socked me in the solar plexus. I look around but there isn't nobody there, just the realization that my other half is no longer connected to me. But that's not true. Our connection, in some very important ways, is richer and clearer than ever. Sitting on either side of our daughter a few weeks ago at her student conference,, we shared one of those parenting looks that saod, "Oh my god, she's such a miracle, don't you want to eat her up?" and although that look was followed by one of those sad looks, it was not followed by a "I'd be so much happier if you would just..." look. It was not followed by our heart's shutting down. My friend Ann Cheng said this morning on our walk, "What would it be like to live without any expectations?" (which is probably what enlightenment feels like) and that's part of the gift of not being married anymore: we can love each other without expectations. No expectation of connection or being on time or getting the taxes done... It's odd and lonely and freeing. It brings up the question in me, over and over, what do I want or need from another person? Why do I believe a relationship has to look a certain way?

On the creative front, after being dead to even the most remote creative impulse, I can feel the creative heat building in me. It feels exciting and a little scary. All I know right now is that my next creative leg must be:

More collaborative - I want someone(s) to work with in person at least part of the time
More fun - play! Be a voice and conduct for play!
More focused - I want to articulate what self-care is and be an international stand for it; what is the "there there" of my work?
Better supported - asking for and creating systems so I can do all I want to do.

I've been considering performance as part of my future. I know I want to become a better speaker and speak more. I may want to do more weekend workshops. I've fantasied how much fun it would be to do a TV show-- some thing for the new Oprah network!  I'm edging toward my novel. I've made some art again...  Did I mention focus must be part of my new life?   

And I've been struggling with my days getting eaten up with "stuff," like today, Lilly is home from school, it's a holiday and yesterday it was meet a friend for tea. I'm feeling the need to get away for a longer retreat in silence, away from home again.  Not sure when that came happen but feeling the need!

So far my retreat looks like nothing I ever thought it would, certainly it doesn't look particularly special or "sacred," but I keep reminding myself, "What should it look like?" and "Why should it look any different than it does?" In other words, I'm accepting reality, digging into the rich and sticky and lovely dirt of me, and living the sacred line from Rilke:

            

May what I do flow from me like a river,
            no forcing and no holding back