Word Drops

Last night we watched the sweetest short film.

It was centered around the theme of people 

entering and exiting our lives,

and how the abrupt shifts in those relationships

ultimately can become a catalyst for a bigger change.

It showcased the difficulty associated 

with someone you love leaving you;

be it platonic love, parental love, romantic love.

And it made me think.

And it made me feel.

And it made me cry.

Dean asked if it was a sad cry or a happy one, and I couldn't really tell.

I think it was a mixture of both.

I had been wanting to share an update on the blog for a while now –

but  each time I sat down to write

the words tasted stale and tinny in my mouth, 

like chewing on aluminum.

I'm not sure why.

And then last night we watched this little movie

and it made all the words floating around in my head

drip out of me in the form of salty tears.

It felt pretty good – to release those tears,

 the happy and the sad mixing together.

It was like I could see the words that were stuck in my head,

roll down my cheeks in liquid word drops: 

‘disappointed.’ ‘nostalgic.’ ‘comforted.’ ‘unsure.’ ‘loved.’

Sometimes you just need a little cry I guess.

Followed by a kiss on the forehead and the switch of a lamp.

Here’s to a gentle and happy Tuesday, friends.

xo

On Being Brave

John Wayne said that courage is being scared to death,

but saddling up anyway. 

Well.
I didn't. 

Last night, I wanted to be brave. 

But I wasn't. 

I found myself caught off guard.
 I'd like to say that my response to the scenario was selfless -
that I reacted in a way that would
ultimately spare some discomfort.
But I still felt like a chicken.

Here's what I earned though:
No matter how much you prepare,
some circumstances are going to be a little scary.
And after the initial jolt,
a long walk on a cold night can do wonders for the nerves.
So can a slice of pizza.
And a phone call to someone who loves you.
Followed by a long hug and a deep sigh.
And the promise that tomorrow will be better.
Braver.
and good.

To August, With Love

I always write of August. 

Likely because it is my birthday month, 

it is August during which I am most nostalgic and reflective. 

I think of stretches of summer days
spent in Maine with my family, 

and long lazy weekends at the beach with girlfriends. 

I have great memories of swapping stories
and sipping beers with friends, 

late into the humidity of the night back east.

Of sun burnt skin, salt water kayaking and backyard lounging.

A friend recently told me, I often update Big Moon Sky in moments of worry, or apprehension.

And to some extent, this is true.

It is easier for me to process moments of worry through writing, 

and so the blog becomes an outlet for those instances.

But it's all shooting stars and sunshine in this post folks! 

image is my own

This summer has been a real slam dunk. 

A string of weekends up in Tahoe -
barbecuing at the base of the river, 

night skies so bright with stars,
 I have to pinch myself to believe its real. 

Dancing in Golden Gate Park with my little sister, 

with flowers in our hair.and smiles on our faces.

Days with my toes dangling from the edge of a boat, 

cheering on friends and clinking glasses towards the sun.

Sunday cocktails and home cooked meals, enjoyed in the backyard of friends.

Nights filled with music and spontaneity - a new feature in my world. 

And goats. So many goats. 

I am quite content these days. 

A steady sunbeam of happy. 

A constant stream of giggles.

And its the best. 

xo

Focus on Love. Send out Love.

After September 11, 

I remember walking around the paved pathways of my college campus aimlessly,

sometimes alone, sometimes with friends, but always in the quiet.

 My mind was flooded with thoughts, but I was unsure about what, exactly.

I was young, and the world wasn’t quite so scary back then.

I knew there were things to be worried about -  feelings to be felt - but it was confusing 

and hard, and sometimes

 I felt ashamed for grieving for people I didn’t know.

 I felt as if I didn’t deserve to feel the same sadness as people more closely impacted by the terrorist attacks. 

image is my own

I know now, that there is  no gauge to measure sadness. 

The events in Boston this week bring the return of that empty feeling, with a lot of tears welling up and uncertainty as to where to direct my grief. 

 Similar to those early evenings back on campus, 

this week I've been going on slow, steady runs through the pathways of San Francisco. 

My eyes on the horizon, my thoughts pointed east. 

There is no gauge to measure sadness… but the same can be said for love. 

And so, I choose to fight fear with love. 

Focus on love. Send out love.

A Letter, on Love

And don't worry about losing. 

If it is right, it happens -- 

The main thing is not to hurry. 

Nothing good gets away.

image is my own
John Steinbeck

a letter to his son, Thom
November 1958

Oh Cuuuuupiiiiid

Today, I'd like to be skipping around,

flinging fistfuls of glitter doilies 

and conversation hearts 

into the air.

It doesn't matter if you have 

a true love valentine, after all! 

You can love your dog,

and tortoiseshell hair clips, of course! 

conversation hearts created here 

You can love your sisters and pretty pink pastries,

and little goats wearing daisy chains.

You can love arugula- the best leafy green! 

You can love many a things. 

So shout it to the sky today, friends.

Point that painted finger at Cupid and his gold dipped arrow.

Let your heart holler:

I LOVE YOU BIG, OLD WORLD! 

I LOVE YOU STARS AND MOON AND MOUNTAINS HIGH! 

Happy Valentine's Day! 

xo

 

 

A Quote. For Tuesday.

"Don’t listen to anyone.

Trust what gives you pleasure.

Trust the emotions.

 If you love something but can’t explain why, that’s enough."

~ Calice Becker ~

image