giving thanks, pt 1

How "Saying Thanks" Will Make You Happier

Things to be thankful for:

-dreams about owls, madly constructed teeter totting houses, and swooping birds we dive under the water to chase
-rooms tinted red, settled with dust, hot with ideas
-a scar in the shape of a question mark
-"that teenage feeling"
-monkeys
-safety blooming from uncertainty
-exhilaration, a heart that pulses
-shock waves that ripple from simple art of hands held tightly
-beautiful boys who hand me hummus filled pita sandwiches
-progress to pluto
-stars, galaxies unheard of and unseen, the possibility of flight
-sunlight
-fat, happy, twin baby nieces who love to read and leave me messages saying "hey lady, i wuv you", who create these ties that bind, who breathe meaning into "family"
-made up words, hidden code, sexual innuendo, volumes relayed through touch and glance.
-missoula, montana
-necks, napes, collar bones, the small of ones back, the arch of ones foot, soft spots behind the ear, the inpress on the side of ones temple
-subtext
-the smell of a used bookstore
-standing on a freeway overpass at night
-hot coffee in your hand, in crisp cold air, with no gloves on
-ridiculousness, giddiness, fondness, and all good things that end in ness

for the first time in years...

For the first time in years, I am stuck sending transmissions into a perpetual void, with no echo but my own.

For the first time in years, my own echo isn't enough.

For the first time in years, I am near to tears over the most trivial of things, and pleased about it.

For the first time in years, I am losing my mind, over something and someone more than myself, over ideas and schemes greater than the self, over times and places and moments as yet un-lived, un-thought, never conceived, and perhaps never to take flight.

And for all the drama it causes, for all the embarrassment and stomach aches and restless nights, for all the potential heart strings snapped and 'wishing I could take it backs'.
I am happy for it, if only for it's validation and reassurance that things have not ended, that that pulsating need still beats, that all things once frozen can again be thawed. For the knowledge that not everything ended with you, and that my fancy and fantasy can once again alight, and begin again, and sustain its own arduous undertaking.

up and coming, coming up

This is the time for plan making. Because what could be better than actually doing projects? Why, planning said projects. A stall tactic you say? No shit.

Winter settles in. This means a plethora of things- namely that my room will soon become finger numbing cold, and my bed will quickly become the only skin-safe spot (remember that playground game 'lava monster'? Well, it going to go much like that. Wear four layers of clothes and hopscotch across islands of furniture until you are burrowed completely below as many covers as you can acquire) Ideas of hibernation, songs about snow and solitude, hot spiced beverages, and slow dancing will all evolve into concrete yearnings or happenings, and morning and night will seem closer- creating the semblance of a touchable sky.
The hardest thing about my favorite time of year is that it is the time of year that, aside from dressing up the cats in reindeer ears and having moominpappa story time with the friends, I have the least amount of energy to get.things.done.
Not this year though. Goddamn, not this year.

To do then. Done. (till the wheels roll off)...