Thursday, October 8, 2015

Presently Dismissed

Quote of the Day: 
Better to be Strong
Than Pretty and Useless.
~Lilith Saintcrow~

Current Local Weather: 
Freezing Heat in the Chicken Coop.

Currently on my iTunes:
Cough Syrup
Young the Giant

Currently Reading: 
Side Effects off of a Chemo Label. Scary. 

Dear Friends and Family and My Family of Friends, 

Has it really been a year and a half or more since my last blog? I guess it has. A lot has happened. A lot. If you want the Reader's Digest version, call me. But this blog, this is in the present moment. This is the first day I've had clarity in a very long time and I'm so very thankful for it. I start my last treatment in this month's round of Chemotherapy. 

So in case you aren't sure how to read that, here's a hint...

I've been diagnosed with CANCER. 

To clarify: It sucks. I have Acute Myeloblastic Leukemia. It's not an easy one. Not that any cancer is easy. But this one particularly sucks. Hard to get rid of. The kind of cancer that likes to park itself all inside your body and doesn't even buy you a drink or dinner before hand.

I have Young the Giant playing in my ears. I love their tune, "Cough Syrup." If you replace the words, Cough Syrup with Cancer, it fits my life, in this moment, perfectly. 
I'm just waiting for this Cancer to come down. I was diagnosed on June 19th. It has turned everything in my world into a swirling sink of cough syrup tinged puke. But I'm ok. Ok with it. Ok with Cancer because it's only a June 19th kinda thing. It's only here for now. Not later. At least I hope so. 

Yesterday, a pastor came to visit me. She was telling me all about her daughter's adventures with St. Baldricks when a friend of hers had cancer in high School and it took a solid two years to grow back her hair to the point where she could push her hair behind her ears. 

I could feel the blood rushing up my very bald head. Ears were hot and tears flowed. I lose my mind easily these days. I started to lose it. Albeit I had thought about the idea of not having hair for a few months, the thought of not having it for several years blew me into a smothering afternoon full of anxiety. It's just hair. I had to ask the question, why did I rely so much on my hair and still rely so much on my hair as part of my identity? Why did I care what others think of me with or without my hair? It's only hair. I fear ugliness. I fear never being kissed again because I'm the weird, pale, funny looking bald chick. I fear not knowing if my fears will come true. I fear dying alone. I fear it all. 

Hair. No hair = Fear. 
What the hell is wrong with me? 

Oh yeah. Cancer. That's what's wrong. 

I hear I look good without it. For all those beautiful people with hair...go suck an egg. 

I beg to differ. 

I'm naked without it. 

My health is next to impossible to survive unless you're me. I was told things, after I burst into tears at the thought of never being me with hair like I used to  have, like...stay in the present. This is temporary. This is only temporary. It's not temporary when it feels like forever. I've been in this bed since August 20th. It's not October. I was in the last bed for two weeks. The one before that for 6 weeks. I've missed Spring, Summer and now, the Fall. 

And I have no hair. 
No job to speak of. 
And a billion friends that love me to pieces on Facebook and in real life. 

So what's the big deal? 

I'm waiting on the Cough Syrup to come down. This is no way to live life. So I try to think of the future. The future where I'm off this Cancer high and down into the reality I want so very badly. But living in anything other than the room that contains the poison for my veins and mind, is a very bad idea. There are no plans for the future. There are no plans for the past that have worked out and currently, I have lost my ability to dream. So I'm living with the short end of the stick in my hand and praying daily for mercy, grace and a cure. 

I fully believe that now, living in the now, is the only way to go. All of my worries put in the actions and reactions of the past serve no one but my nerves and living in a future I can no longer see is blinding. 

Today. This is all I have to give and all I need. Today. If breathing is the only thing I accomplish in a day and that's ok. My fortune is in my friends and family that hold me solidly in their web of love. 

I have about two to three more chemo rounds to go until I'm "done." And that's if this persistence of molecular level leukemia cells vacates this crack house of a body in the very near future. If not...well, again, that's in the future and I have no desire to plan for it. Only for today. 

If you have any desire to help me and others, I ask that you give what you can to the following: 

The first two are beneficial and come with perks for music lovers. The last one helps me directly to pay the bills that are very in the present tense in my life. Cancer Sucks in that way, too. 

Thank you all for living in the present with me. I love you all and will update you as I can. Never dismiss your present for anything other than the greatness it is, for better or worse, because you never know when you'll have to deal with a June 19th. 

Love in Light, Laughs and Losing your Mind/Hair..., 


Friday, June 27, 2014

#MyWritingProcess Blog Tour: Everyday Demons

Quote of the Day:
Most folks are as happy 
as they make up their minds to be.
~Abraham Lincoln~

Current Local Weather:
Damp heat, dank thoughts 
and a strong potential for the thunderous roar of
forgetfulness to cleanse the palate before
night falls...

Currently on my iTunes:
Loma Vista
Family of the Year
**I can't stop listening to this...**

Currently Reading:

Michael Pollan

Dear Friends, Family and My Family of Friends, 

My client, Allison Gruber, tagged me in the #MyWritingProcess blog tour. This wonderful idea stemmed from other writers, readers and envious folks of the bookish ones in society to get the backstory to the story. 

Let me give you the backstory on Allison, first. 

Allison is one of my most favoritest clients. Not because of all the money she garnered both of us as a first-time autobiographical essayist...(hey, don't judge. She really did get paid..) but because of her creative beauty. She's truly a light in the world. And just as I tend to do with my writerly-type clients, I fell in love with her from sentence one and will be so from infinity and beyond. 

Who needs marriage when you have clients that don't dirty up the bathtub, throw wet towels on the floor and cause a mess...instead they cleanse the mind...

Clients who never leave your head too early and always stay for as long as you need, just when you need them most? Who needs romance when every time they send you a book you get the privilege of falling deep head-over-bookmark in that lusty bibliophilish phase of love that only a true book lover can know? 

This is why I do what I do.

Her first book, "You're Not Edith," started out as nothing but Trouble. (Sorry Allison, couldn't help myself) PLEASE ORDER YOURS NOW! Click the link on the title!

She has a unique and insightful take on the #Writing process. I hope you'll take a moment to go read her "audio" blog for this series. Thank you, Allison, for giving me this opportunity to talk about #MyWritingProcess. 

This concept consists of writers answering four questions about their process. Who am I to debunk the system? So here's mine: 

1) What are you working on now? 

"Deprivation" It's about a narcoleptic pilot that figured out a way to get by the FFA with his disease only to have it come back to bite him after having an affair with a "sky waitress." 

It's a comedic look at the hazards of chronic traveling and high-altitude scheming. Deprivation combines the wit of "Airplane," the absurdity of "Fight Club" and rounds it off with a bit of "Fatal Attraction."

This is absolutely a "fun" project amidst all of my "serious" ones. Not that all of them aren't fun, but this one just suits the mood I'm in more than not. 

I'm also working on a new oral history titled, "Lost and Found: The American Dream and its Greatest Faults." That one is still taking subjects. If you've lost your way and found your dreams in the process of finding yourself, call me, ASAP. 

2) How does my work differ from others of its genre? 

This is a hard question to answer, even when coming from an agent that has to lecture clients about comp titles...

I believe each work has a lifeline of its own. But all of what I do differs from others in that it doesn't stoop to or rise against any expectations or boundaries. It's offensive and deep and deeply defensive as to the faults that seep out of yours, mine and our skin on a daily basis. 

3) Why do I write what I write?  

 I always write with the theme of humanity.  Just like you, I'm trying to figure out the meaning of our commonness, our existence and our demise. Writing about it just helps, it's the only thing that helps me as a matter-of-fact. It's the cheapest and most invaluable therapy there is to get rid of my everyday demons...

Those demons can be muses in disguise. I would recommend that if you're thinking about writing, entertain and host your demons to the party on the page. Blank pages are as good as the infamous "Proton Packs" used on Ghostbusters for exhausting the "Stay-Puff Man" in your life that's haunting you. 

4) What does my writing process look like? 

I should correct this question to read, "What does it sound like?" 

I'm completely lopsided when it comes to my sensory experiences. Sound, the making of and the listening to, inspires me. So the first thing I do when I write is to listen to the character's voice. Then I find their playlist and create it to sing to me when I write. I then take off with whatever they want me to do. I'm their pawn. Always. Whether it be in the oral-history format or my favorite fictional asshole pilot in Deprivation...I'm their only chance to have a voice. 

John, the pilot, he listens to Dead Milkmen when no one is around and Miles Davis when a woman asks and flies...soars to Johnny Cash. He's a lot like me in that respect...Eclectic. So when I write in his voice, I have to have him in his full form to write him down. 

When I was working on my book, "The New Face of Jazz," I listened to a lot guessed it...jazz. But while doing edits for the book I listened to a lot of R&B, Gospel and even, dare I say...classical. 

As far as the tangible process: I'm a quiet writer. I can't be around chaos, I can't be too hot but I can be cold and I definitely can't be in any kind of pain. Pain of any kind is the nemesis of writing. Whether it be emotional, physical or intellectual (as in...the research for this novel/article/living will could potentially kill me!) has to be in balance and in somewhat dissonant harmony with the project I'm working on. 

Thanks again to Allison for tagging me in this! 

Next up in the #MyWritingProcess Blog tour is one of my favorite storytellers. Yes, he's Natty-poo's Papa, but before I knew him as a Papa-type dude, I knew him as a full-blown Texan Storyteller. You can find him on Twitter. 

And, for the record: He's the one that did this to Natty: 

Regardless of his role and its proverbial coat of many colors through the last four plus years I've known Jimmy, I've never grown tired of his stories, his writing or his love for his family. Here's to you, Papa! And thanks for giving a great set of genes to Natty's Daddy and Natty. Sometimes the best storytellers are sitting right in front of you. Time to listen to what they have to say. 

Yours in Writing, Wordsmithing and Wondering About it All, 


Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Negative Assets

Quote of the Day: 
No one is useless in this world that 
lightens the burden of another.
~Charles Dickens~

Current Local Weather: 
Muddied waters are a-comin' due to 
the endless supply of the spring tears.

Currently on my iTunes:
"Waltz of the Nuke Workers"

Currently Reading:
"Big Spoon, Little Spoon"
*haha, I get to read this before anyone else!*

Dear Friends, Family and My Family of Friends, 

To See the World...

This blog is for the writers and artists in my life... and I'm writing this as your mentor, your boss, your agent, your lover, your hopeful liaison to everything you see when you close your eyes.

I just went to see the movie, The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. 

As an unabashed fan of the original short story, I was curious to see how Ben Stiller was going to treat it and more importantly, stretch it into a feature length movie. I ignored and refused to read any criticism or reports on the movie and patiently waited for it to deport from the big guns into the dollar theater. I didn't even sneak a peak and watch the "old" version of the movie or even entertain the idea of bootlegging it. I read it to my girls one night in preparation for going to see it. Their response to the story was...that's it?!?!  But...what happened to that? Was it a dream? Was it real? 

Things Dangerous to Come....

As a budding literary snob, I had those same questions when I read it the first time. I am an American. I WANT EXCESSIVE DETAIL AND SWAG IN EVERYTHING I CONSUME! Dammit. I should have been a Gatsby.

I digress.

I could hardly contain myself during the movie. Ok, that's a partial lie. I couldn't contain myself. I had to get out my cell phone to light up my purse so I could pull out business cards, scraps of paper and gum wrappers to write down my thoughts while I watched. This kind of inspiration doesn't come easy to me. But G*d Dammit....that movie was the very best I've seen in...well, let's just say I feel a bit on this side of greatness having been one of the privileged ones to see it. 

To See Behind the Walls...

To treat this itty bitty significant grand... with so much techni-f'in-color wonderfulness was far beyond any expectations I may have had. It's as if Jon Bon Jovi decided to put out his next hard rock album consisting of all Phillip Glass music. 

Draw Closer...

But through all the master cinematography and visual imagery, the AHA moment I walked away with lied simply in Mitty's job. He was the head of Negative Assets. 

Walter Mitty had everything in the world in his dreams and nothing, at least that he could think of, in his waking life. Sure...he has a great mom (Shirley McClaine is A.M.A.Z.I.N.G. as a momma) and a quirky but lovable sister. 

To Find Each Other...

However, every great man deserves a woman. But where, as the E-harmony guy (Paton Oswald...another favorite) points out were his "Been there, done thats?" Surely he had to have ONE....

Alas, Walter Mitty had many in his dreams. Until one man left a message thanking him for his work...

And to feel...

I recently had to conquer a negative asset and figure out how to create assets that ooze positives. So, in my fashion, I started my own company. Janus Artistic Services. 

In an extensive meeting last night all four of us in the company worked out the verbage for the "why..."of the company. 

In very non-eloquent terms, I said that we basically exist to deal with all of the bullshit that no one else wants to do. We are here to serve artists in their every need and want. 

Our company slogan is, We Don't Sleep, So Artists Can Eat. 

The impetus, a.k.a. WHY...behind the company is the wanton need to take care of those that need us most so they can fulfill their dreams. We are here to serve those that are in the fight of their lives to find their true purpose and value. 

And I believe, having worked in this industry for...well, for a long time, that the journey must be done without the awareness of others but with the knowledge that often it's what we want most whether it's to be that star, to be the success we see when we close our eyes, is absolutely not something that needs the "like" button on Facebook. It's something that must be an asset to your character. It has to be DEEP inside of you to reach past the skin on your teeth. 

This life of yours needs to take place for yourself before seeking any kind of approval. You need to be the office, space cadet. You HAVE to be the Walter Mitty in your mind and dream a thousand dreams before you employee someone to listen to you talk about it. Hearing that it CAN'T be done your way or that YOU can't do what you want to do can kill your spirit, your heart and more importantly the invincible will when facing the impossible. 

Shooting down your dreams is like acquiring a manager to those negative assets in your life. 

It's dictionary time, kids! 

Asset (n) is defined as a useful or valuable thing, person, or quality. 

Negative (adj.) is defined as the absence of distinguishing, marked qualities or features, lacking positive attributes (opposite of positive). 

The words or job of someone that is a negative asset manager is a double negative in of itself. 

Whether you're an artist, a budding novelist, or musician with 40 yrs of gigs behind you and only 20 left ahead, your greatest asset is that you're POSITIVE that you've got your dreams in the palm of your hand and your head on your shoulders...and you should be able to rest knowing that what you have to offer the world, even if at the time it's only in your head, it will surely be of great use to others in the human race. Why would anyone with a dream take it...a noun with an adjective that's the most POSITIVE attribute of your core and turn it into a very dark, smellly, damning horse? 

You wouldn't. Never Compromise. Always Realize.

And in the end, Walter Mitty, the most selfless man in the story, had to realize that the hardest work is often done without the intent of recognition. Sometimes the pay you receive is only in knowing that you helped somebody else recognize their positive effects, assets and hidden life in their daydreams. 

The truth, even if only in your head, is tough. You must learn that in order to get the girl, realize your dreams, ignore the "Major Tom Weird Beard Guy" in your office and rid yourself of that negative asset taking up your hard-wired drive, that the truth lies in knowing what it means to be yourself.

And that is exactly what Walter Mitty did. 

He was no longer a dreamer, he was a doer.

And yes, SPOILER ALERT, he got the girl. 

And...he found the cover shot negative that seemingly spoiled his whole world.

Which, ironically, turned out to be a positive. 

I hope that all of you will be true to who you are regardless of your job. 

That you'll realize the "WHY" behind the "WHAT" you do every day and turn your assets away from the negative...

That is the purpose of life...

Yours in Assets, Office Assholes and Acclimating to the Truth, 


Friday, January 10, 2014

Wake Me Up

Quote of the Day: 
It is not true that people stop pursuing dreams because they grow old, 
they grow old because they stop pursuing dreams.
~Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Current Local Weather: 
Stagnation of cold weather. Mother nature swooping in 
at alarming rates to make us all remember why seasons exist.

Currently on my iTunes: 
"Wake Me Up" 
Aloe Blacc

Currently Reading:

Dear Friends, Family and My Family of Friends,

I've got this catchy tune stuck in my much so, the blog is themed over and above its lyrics. The tune, as above, "Wake Me Up" by Aloe Blacc. It makes me want to dance and cry all at once. Strange, wonderful feelings are evoked by his "carry-on" thematics and strong vocals. Mr. Aloe, you're brilliant.

Favorite lines: 
So, Wake me up when it's all over. 
When I'm wiser and I'm older...
all this time I was finding myself and 
I didn't know I was lost. 

I tried to carry the weight of the world
but I only have two hands....
Life's a game for everyone 
and love is the prize. 

I haven't showered in two days. Haven't bothered to brush my hair. Haven't even removed the yoga clothes, of which yoga was not practiced in during said past days. I keep thinking that the time to clean up will come. (and I assure you that as soon as I get the demons out of my head this morning, it will worries!) But as of the last 48 hours, the time has escaped me. I've been working. Kinda. Well, it's not actually work. It's been a journey and one, quite frankly, that I'm still on and hope to be on for life. 

I'm one of the fortunate few in this world that gets to do what I love. What is it? Cleaning up the world and spreading love one musician/writer at a time. I was talking to my friend Bibi Green the other day and she said, upon hearing my complaints about scheduling a mega-jazz festival..."you've finally got a real're creating another venue for jazz musicians." 

She wasn't being condescending or placating or anything negative at all...She was being herself...and as usual, she was right. I finally have a "real" job. She says this on the heels of me being unemployed for many many months due to illness. She says this on the heels of knowing how dark and deep my waters ran when I didn't feel as though my purpose mattered to anyone anymore. Trust me, Bibi had to hear it all from me. As the song says, and for too long, "I tried carrying the weight of the world, but I only have two hands." I no longer subscribe to that motto. Delegation is the key to happiness. So says the girl with control issues. 

But now, I'm finally waking up. Although there is no man that is sitting by my side, Mr. Coffee has been consistently wonderful in waking me up each and every morning with his odiferous roar for the past few months. 

Purpose is a very liberating stone to throw. Creating, fielding and stuffing your purpose down your own throat until you pop is a good thing no matter how you slice it. We all have purpose, we all have a reason to be here. Some, like Mr. Aloe, has the purpose of writing music that wakes some of us up. 

Most of us don't know we're lost until we're found. After lamenting to a friend that I was down about potentially"losing" a man I don't ever want to lose whether it be as friends or more or acquaintances (the worst of all possibilities), one I don't really even know but desperately want to, I wrote the following post on my FB wall: Sometimes being lost is the only way to find yourself. I have talked many times with this said "person" about finding purpose and living for something that really drives you. He is someone that you only meet once. If you're lucky. A connection past the normal threads in the fabric of life. But we often talk about drive...And no, not the Driving Miss Daisy kind of drive...Driving as in if you don't do what is driving you, you might actually fall apart and die. I'm so blessed to know what it is in my life that drives me. Love, Music and everything else is just...buttah! 

Once again, I woke up. I had to realize that by lamenting for "what isn't in existence" isn't a good thing. I can want all of the things in the world but that doesn't mean that I'll ever get them. It doesn't mean that they were ever mine for the taking in the first place. I guess I'm just as human as the next redhead is. (Yes, we're human) Himming and hawing over anything is an anesthetic for the mind. It will soon knock your bright shiny lights right out of the park. Your purpose cannot be a thing of the past. It begs to be the only thing you do in the everyday here and now; the one thing that builds toward that greater picture known as your reason for breathing. Ahhhh....Life. As Aloe sings, "Life's a game for everyone and love is the prize..." 

Love has to stretch over into all you do. It has to be the all-purpose flour that glues your feet to the ground and stretches your personal rue into the gravy of your dreams. (Yes, sometimes I dream about gravy...) 

The bigger part of what drives me, however, is to see others find their driving dreams; to find their purpose. Whether it's the man I think of when I fall asleep and the conversation we had about losing your way or whether it's a young (even those that are just "young" at heart) jazz musician trying to find a way to reach an audience more effectively or a writer that has words that scream out PUBLISH ME!...this is my purpose. My purpose lies in others. And this purpose, the one where love is truly the prize, mostly, wholly and totally, includes my daughters. The three of them are so innocent, sweet and loving. 

The only thing I can truly think to do for any one of them is to keep loving them until they pop open like a can of All-Purpose flour Pillsbury GMO soaked biscuits. Loving them in such a way that they always know I love them even when they get to the age where they're dreaming of a man, a way of life and their greater purpose on this earth. I'm glad they're too young to understand where they are now and have that very-cool dream of a different life than their parents still lies ahead. I hope they get the chance to roam the earth until they're ready to settle for a bigger picture. They continuously provide a way to wake me up...and I'm glad they waited until, as the tune says, I was wiser and older. 

Purpose is sometimes the elephant in the room. It's not scared of you if you're not scared of it. 

Yours in Waking up, Wishing the Best for Him/You/Us, Wanting More Purpose & Less Fluff 'n' Stuff, 


Sunday, November 24, 2013

Forget You

Quote of the Day
One of the keys to happiness
is a bad memory.
~Rita Mae Brown~

Current Local Weather: 
150% chance of ice storms on the outside. 
99.9% chance of warmth, calm and beauty 
shifting from the west moving on towards the inside of my heart.
99.9% Chance of a break in all things bad from yesterday 
carrying over until all the tomorrows to come.

Currently on my iTunes: 
"Lost in the Light"

Currently Reading: 
"Hope Dies Last"
Studs Terkel

**For my new, old friend, Tim.**

Dear Friends, Family and My Family of Friends...

Have you ever had a song break your heart? A musician? A writer? An artist? A man? A woman? Anyone? Have you ever had to forgive someone that at the time, didn't seem forgivable? Did you ever want to "Forget" them...but just couldn't? Did you ever want to say..."Although there's pain in my chest, I wish you the best...but I'd love to Forget You...oh, I really hate your ass right now" Cee Lo couldn't have said it better...

However, as the quote of the day says, "One of the keys to happiness is a bad memory." Forgetting, er, rather...unremembering, is sometimes the best remedy for everything that ails you. But forgetting anything isn't an instamatic super power that has been granted to many of us.

I've recently reconnected with an ex. But this wasn't just any ol' ex...this was one I was deeply in love with. One that helped me in so many ways, if I began to tell you about it all, you'd get bored with me and stop reading right about now...This hasn't been an easy reconnection, though.  Seamless isn't something either of us know. There are those lingering feelings I still have "those" feelings for him? Do I still want...this...the "thing" that broke my heart and left me for a pile of nothing on the floor? I had to stop before I began. 

This "thing," I had to remember, is not a thing at all. "It's" a person. A very kind, warm, open and friendly...and HAPPY....person. What truly broke my heart was the idea that what we "had" was over. I felt lost. And I felt that way for a very long time afterwards...and although all seemed lost, the map to find something in the space that was vacant, to occupy it again, turns out, wasn't too far away from where I was standing. 

After many discussions and conversations, we both realized that there was definitely something more at fault than any other thing...that huge thing known as "miscommunication." 

We realized that we had to be bigger than our selves and learn from what had happened months prior to our renewed discussion of all things, "WTF."  We learned many, many things but the one thing I walked away with was this: 

Sometimes you have to realize that the pain you go through has a purpose. Pain is one of the best educations anyone can receive. Sometimes you don't realize it at the time, but after it's always clear. 

I was talking with a friend this morning about how music has a massive effect on everything I do. (I know, duh!?!) In all seriousness, music sits on the edge of gravity for me. Sometimes it's the only thing separating me from the clouds, sometimes, it, itself, becomes the cloud on which I sit and observe life from. Sometimes, it is my soul, removed from me to teach me about myself. Music is not a misnomer, or a background color in my life, it is my life. It is everything to me. It is my living color, it is where I stand, it is who I am in so many beautiful ways. Music has the ability to break you into a million pieces, but as I told him, I'd rather feel the pain and live with the limp and scar than cast it and "fix" the piece it broke away from my soul. 

There's a "new" (new to me) band out there by the name of Bahamas. (pronounced Ba-hahm-ahs) They have a tune called, "Lost in the Light." I think this is one of the most soul-filled and alluring tunes on forgiveness, losing love and love lost and found and lost again, that has ever been heard by man. Please, listen while reading the lyrics below. 

I'm lost in the light 
I pray for the night 
To take me, to take me to 

After so many words 
Still nothing's heard 
Don't know what we should do 

So if someone can see me now, let them see you 

It was my greatest thrill 
But we just stood still 
You let me hold your hand 'til I had my thrill 

Even countin' sheep 
Don't help me sleep 
I just toss and turn right there beside you 

So if someone could help me now, they'd help you too. 

They'd help you to 
See you through 
All the hard things we've all gotta do 
Cause this life is long 
And so you wouldn't be wrong 

Bein' free you and me on my own! 

And I held my own 
Still I rattled your bones 
I said some awful things and I take them back 

If we would try again 
Just remember when 
Before we were lovers, I swear we were friends 

So if someone could see me now let them see you 

Let them see you 
See you through 
All the hard things we've all gotta do 
Cause this life is long 
So you wouldn't be wrong 
Bein' free here with me on my own!

Where my words miserably fail, this tune picks up. I believe that the friendship and new facet of love that this man and I share is so much better for what we went through than not. It's allowing me to learn that not all love that is lost is a lost or just cause. We all have to learn this lesson at some point or other. We all have to figure out that our belief in love is there for a reason.

I might be in love again. I might always be in love. Of course, one can always hope that it's always there or always a possibility. Otherwise, what's the point? It's not just in existence for sex, for pain, or for pursuit of the almighty ending to our perceived fairytale life. 

Love that is lost is there for our benefit. I've learned to love regardless of being hurt by even my own words and hurting someone else through them. I've learned that there is no "perfect" fit for any one soul, especially mine. And believe me when I say, that's no easy pill to swallow. There are only two people that can learn to love through understanding, forgiveness and allowing each other the freedom to be two within the relationship that makes them one. Thank you, Alfie, for writing and singing beyond the skies, beyond any cloud I've ever sat on...thank you for your tune "Lost in the Light."  

I hope most of all, that through finding a new friend in an old lover, that every one that has gone through this can find it in their hearts echo the line (as the tune says) "I swear we were friends before we became lovers." There is too much pain and too many ice cold shoulders rubbing against the sustainable warmth that is easily found inside each of us to deny ourselves the happiness we deserve. The point of loving is to love with reckless abandon. To love someone so very much that when others see you, they see them, too.

Your assignment for this week is to find the person that hurt you and forget them. Forget them as you knew them or as you remember them. Forget you, too. Remember this...remember that you've forgotten them as they were, remember them as they are and remember you were there too. Help them through all the hard things we've all gotta do when the opportunity to love again finds your soul. 

Yours in Difficult Lives, Loving Life and Living as though I've Forgotten It All Just to Do it Again,