The Gilded Cage

A long time ago (ha, ha, hold a sec you'll get the joke) when I was married, one of the things I loved the most was the fact that my husband held my hand. When we walked in the mall, when we went out to dinner, when we were sitting in the movie theater pretending to pay attention to the screen. In fact, our last date, a little over a year ago and right before we seperated, we spent six days in a hotel, having dinner, dancing around the room, making out under the trees, and holding hands as we walked up and down the outdoor mall. It felt natural, despite the fact that we hadn't seen each other in over three months. But even then, up until that point, I still wanted to be wrapped up in him, smelling like his cologne, daydreaming about him smiling at me on the next pillow, washing my hair with his shampoo.

I wasn't a stalker. I just had a man who was not afraid to lay claim to what he considered his. Bad history aside, my ex never made me feel less his wife, most especially in public.

Since then, I've had the privilege of both observing and experiencing new relationships. My friends have, very kindly, begun to tell me that I have a type -- the wrong type. Emotionally unavailable men. And I am very much an emotionally available woman. Always have been. What has changed in the past twelve months, however, is my claim to my own independence. Eventually, I feel that I would like very much to "belong" to someone again. Sorry to my feminist friends, I know that's not very GirlPower of me. It's the truth though.

However...

While I wait for someone to come along who can handle all that I am (and, in my Foxy Cleopatra voice, "I'm a whole LOTTA woman!), I'm finding that I am not so comfortable dealing with men who want to cage me up, put restrictions on me, make me feel like I am being stuffed into a box.

Might be the "good girl, makes cookies, loves puppies, stars in her eyes, rom-com" me. Might be the "naughty, naughty, holy crap didn't know you got down like that, lemme get that on video" me. (lol)

Either way, whenever I feel that noose tightening, I rebel or I retreat, and that's no good for anybody. It happens at work, when I feel my boss is putting pressure on me to act, think, talk, produce, like other people with different life experiences and world views than me. When well-meaning male friends try to tell me about myself, like they've got it all figured out. When my privacy is compromised. When my requests for intimacy - not sex, intimacy - fall on very deaf ears...

When I feel like someone is trying to put me in a damn gilded cage, expecting me to submit, to relent, to bow down, just because its padded, and the food's good, and its kind of comfy - except when its not, and your bum hurts from the rock under the cushion, and the rich food sticks in your throat, refusing to go any further...

This morning - as the night is long gone now - I learned that no matter how beautiful, comfortable, wonderful it is, a cage is still a cage. And I decided that I will find a man who will want me as I am, who will understand how much better I am without the cage, who will listen, and act, and enjoy everything a free spirit like me can be...

Think. React. Love.
-Asha

My wish list...

During my journey this year I had the awesome opportunity to meet with a counselor/life coach, who advised me on ways to regain the hopefulness I thought I had lost. She was realistic, motherly, and when I broke down sobbing on her couch, confronted with the end of what I felt was a major part of my life, she took off her glasses, sat down next to me, and held me until I felt stronger.

She had me practice exercises, ones where I created the life I wanted in my head and then on paper, convinced myself that what I was asking for was not beyond my reach, and only then began to formulate a gameplan to achieve said "life".

Worked wonders for me in some situations, especially in getting me to move my ass and love myself better. :)

One exercise we spoke about but never got to see through was where I created for myself the type of love life I wanted, the type of man I could see myself marrying, raising a family with, building a life and a leaving a legacy beside. But then, back then, I wasn't ready to do so, to look at another man and know that, yes, I could give my whole heart to him, and feel no fear.

I think I'm ready now.

So here goes my love life wish list.

1. My love must understand how very important children are to me. Whether we have our own, adopt, foster, or just surround ourselves with honorary ones, this is something I plan to continue deep into my old age.

2. My love must dance with me. Pulled close, in an almost embrace, so that we can hear our hearts beating over the music. Not grinding, not shimmying, just moving...

3. My love must have a passion all their own. There is nothing more attractive to me than a man with both potential and passion. And he must encourage me in my own passions, so that we are together fulfilled.

4. He will understand my need to roam. I don't plan on letting anything or anyone tie me down to one spot without it being totally comfortable. My roots are portable - his need to be as well. And the kids can move around with us, until I no longer get "the itchy feet".

5. He will appreciate the kind of love I give. It's that old school love, the kind that lasts. It ensures that you will always have a friend in me, a confidant, a driver for the getaway car. It means that I will always want you safe, without tying you down. It means that I will occasionally put my cold feet on you at night. Cuddling is not an option - its a requirement. And your heart will always be safe with me.

6. He will be affectionate. PDA-haters be damned. If I want my lover to kiss me, or if I want to grab a handful of man-ass in front of a whole caravan of nuns and preschoolers, I'm gonna do it.

7. He will be a gentleman. Open doors, bring me coffee when I'm in full-on writer's mode, run me a bath when I've had a long day, and hold me close when I have a nightmare. He will ask what I like to eat, hold my hand or offer his arm, and smile at me when I'm across the room to make me blush.

8. He will understand that I am a woman of many passions and he may find himself on the top of that list - and he likes that. He expects to be dragged off into dark corners at Christmas parties so I can sneak a kiss (or something else *wink, wink*), takes his vitamins regularly, and is a bit of a rakeshell himself and quite creative.

9. He is a protector - like me. Knowing full well that even at 5'2" I would go to bat for him (because I'm spunky like that), he makes me feel both protected and safe. Trust is a must. I can love a man I don't trust, but in the end, that man won't hold my heart...

10. He will be understanding of my whimsical nature. Yes, I believe in mermaids and Atlantis. Yes I would like to go scouring for gold. Yes, its snowing outside and I am absolutely dancing around in it. Yes, I don't like broken cookies. Yes, I take two hour bubble baths. Yes, there is a fight bell on my bedroom wall. Yes, I have way too many kung-fu movies. Yes, I expect to hear Dave Matthew's "Crash into Me" played at our wedding. Yes, that is the Bat-signal tattooed on my ass. Yes, I do sometimes wear little boy undies (lol). Yes, that is my broadsword. Yes, I really do hate costumed creatures like Barney and Teletubbies and the Burger King. Yes, I expect a yearly sabbatical to Comic Con to be on our to-do list for the next few years. Yes, I am putting "forsaking all others" into our vows because I can live with it and so shall you. Yes, I can run in these heels. Yes, I give attack hugs. Yes, I believe in Happily Ever After....

You get my gist here.

So there's the beginning of my wish list. It's honest, like myself, and necessary. I'm not going to settle for half. I'm not going to "settle" at all. I fully believe there is a man out there with the ability to love me the way I need to be loved, who can rest assured that I will do the same for him - I believe in reciprocity ya'll.

Think I'm done with this bloggy. ;)

Love ya'll,

-Asha

The Gauntlet

One of my favorite movies is "First Knight" with Richard Gere. Now, if you know me, you have either dissolved into giggles or are shaking your head and saying "yep, that sounds just about right". The passion, the restraint, the romance - I'm a fan of it all. And, as I have taken this weekend to reflect on the love that was, the love that is, and the love that will be, I was reminded of something else from that movie...

Jordin Sparks took it upon herself to sing about love being a battlefield...and it resonated with me. I can truly say - and I'm sure you can agree - that being in love can sometimes feel akin to being a soldier in a war. You're in the trenches where there is action, suspense, you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for the next bomb to drop, rifle in hand, hoping you will have the chance to defend and protect yourself. I've always been of the mind that my defensiveness encompassed both me and the one I loved. But you know, sometimes the person you need to protect yourself from is the one you love. And therein lies the Gauntlet.

Created by someone who has taken the time to know you, your patterns, your weaknesses. To allow you to let your guard down, to lull you into a false sense of security...and then WHAM-O! And then you are left in the middle of the road, asking if anyone got the license plate of that truck...

I am speaking, of course, from very personal experience :).

I found myself in a situation where I literally had become exhausted. There seemed to be a neverending supply of hoops, dangerous ledges, insurmountable obstacles in this particular gauntlet. In truth, I was about to hop my happy ass off the damn thing, scream "Fuck you guys! I'm goin' home" a la Cartman from SouthPark. And right when I thought enough was enough...it stopped. No swinging objects, no thin, scary ledges, no hoops. Simple, honest, heartfelt.

I exhaled. Just like in that damn movie.

Shoulda known.

I guess I am wiser now, but I'll tell you, I was completely unprepared for the hit I took. Like a bus that dropped from a clear sky and knocked me on my ass. I broke. Completely, totally, and finally. It didn't matter how far I had come, how many foes I'd already defeated, how tired I already was, how much I deserved a break.

For a woman already scared to love, to have taken those itty bitty baby steps only to be confronted with the same old tired song, I'll tell you, it almost made me give up.

Once again, my constant heart was in danger.

That was several months ago. And my heart is locked back inside myself where I know she is safe. But I wonder, every day, especially today, if love is always like this. If you have to run the requisite amount of gauntlets in order to deserve the love you find, that is also deserving of you. It doesn't work if it isn't level. You're giving 110%, and he's...taking it.

That is just a sucky situation all around.

I'm honestly going to say that, while I believe in the kind of love you read about, there is a growing part of me that wonders if that kind of love is extinct. (And if not - where the fuck is it? Hello???)

Okay, I'm done with being all around dreary.

Because that last paragraph is the lie I tell myself whenever I fall down and scrape my knees running after this love thing. I don't know why I'm chasing it down, I sometimes feel like I should stop - but still I'm running.

Locked away as my heart is...deep down inside of me...I still believe.


Yours,
-Asha

For you - you know who you are

Especially for those who feel that love in any form, freely given, is a burden too heavy to bear,
those too scared and scarred to put themselves out there,
and for me. Because I didn't have the words... but Etta did.

Listen well.

-Asha

"I Don't Want It" - sung by Etta James, The Chess Box

I can't understand (I don't want it)
The way that you act (I don't want it)
You give me your love (I don't want it)
and then you take it all back (I don't want it)

I know everyone (I don't want it)
is somebody's fool yeah (I don't want it)
You broke my heart (I don't want it)
and every, every rule yeah (I don't want it)

Now if this is love (don't want it, don't want it)
that you're giving me (don't want it, don't want it)
Then uh-uh, I don't want it (don't want it, don't want it)
I don't want it (don't want it, don't want it)

Oh, ooh, I've been a fool (I don't want it)
In the biggest kind of way yeah (I don't want it)
To think that you could ever (I don't want it)
belong to me (I don't want it)

When I know (I don't want it)
I'm no closer to your heart (I don't want it)
Then the sky is right now (I don't want it)
to the sea (I don't want it)

Oh you come to me (I don't want it)
When things go wrong (I don't want it)
I'm just a shoulder (I don't want it)
For you to cry on (I don't want it)

You only want me (I don't want it)
Only when you need me (I don't want it)
And all I ever get (I don't want it)
Is just a little bit of sympathy! (I don't want it)

Now if this is love (don't want it, don't want it)
That you're giving me (don't want it, don't want it)
Uh-uh, uh-uh I don't want it (don't want it, don't want it)
I don't want it (don't want it, don't want it)

Life without love (I don't want it)
Is not what I see (I don't want it)
And I can get a smile (I don't want it)
From any stranger on the street (I don't want it)

Oh my love, I don't want it.


Share I Don't Want It by Etta James

Beautiful...

I've been feeling lately like there is much in my life that I have placed into other's hands. Not that I am trying to be in the driver's seat mind you, I'm content to let God drive... No, its more that I feel like I'm all the way in the back of the station wagon - you know, with the luggage. Yeah. That's changing now.

This morning I woke up cranky, hair mussed, sore throat, slightly hung over. But I looked in the mirror at myself, really looked at the girl in the mirror, and I had to smile (look dimples!). Because despite the cranky, despite the morning breath, despite the lines I'm starting to see under my eyes...she was beautiful. I'm proud of her, how she is handling herself, her heart, her life.

I make mistakes every day. I forgive and allow and entice and cut off people all the time. I'm a pretty easygoing person - superficially. Most never get to see my layers or call me on my bullshit. And those who do - those are the people I wouldn't let go of for anything.

I've spent a year in introspection - as it was necessary for me to take a good look at mistakes I've made in my life up until this point, concessions I've made, strings that I was still holding tight to that should have been severed long ago...but I'm better now. I no longer hate myself. I don't have dark thoughts of ending my life. I'm not depressed. There is too much light in me, too much potential for both good and great in my life. For years I was attracted to potential in others, and not once did I stop to examine my own...

There are so many different paths I can take. I might take the one you least expect. I might not take any of them - maybe be a trailblazer, create my own damn path.

I'm not angry you see. Far from it. I am embracing all sides of myself. The dark and the light. The logical, the illogical...because of the woman I looked at in the mirror this morning. An old me, but brand new too. You never know what she will decide to do...

But she's ready. Bring it.

-Asha

A dedication...

I was speaking to a friend of mine the other day and she was laughing at a story I was telling her from when I was in second grade. It wasn't really that funny of a story - I think she just got a trip out of the fact that I remembered it so vividly. But that is the way I am. I don't forget, though I may forgive, and it is because of that vivid long-term memory of mine that every year, around this time, things get extra hard...

One of the things I remember from my pregnancy in high school is how very ashamed I felt for so long. I had never looked down on any of the other girls I knew who had babies before graduation - I kind of took it as something that occasionally happened, especially where I grew up. But on the day I took that e.p.t. in the bathroom of the Wendy's where I was working, I knew...I just knew that somehow, someway, I had fucked up.

It took me a while to get over that feeling. One, because I realized that - hey, you didn't get yourself pregnant so stop feeling alone - and two, I had choices... or thought I had choices.

Life, and love, had other plans.

I was into my fourth month when I changed from depressed and hopeless, to in complete awe of what was happening to me. I was very aware that my body was going through changes women for thousands of years had experienced. It was awesome in the most intense way, that feeling that you are not alone in your body, that there is someone else you are caring for, whose body and soul are being nourished by you. Being pregnant was like having an instant soulmate, because I truly believe that part of a child's soul comes from its mother...

And I was a mother. For nearly half a day.

Every year, without fail, my body goes through an emotional change, reminiscent of the trauma of that day. I feel pain, panic, heartbreak. I want to scream, cry, beg for my son to be returned to me. I want to plead, make promises that are too late to keep...and in the end, there is acceptance...and loss. Every day I feel his loss. The beauty that he was, what he could have been. The smile he would have worn as he entered middle school this year.

I see his face, sometimes young, sometimes older. And in my dreams he calls me mother and I cry in my sleep.

For years I kept that pain silent. I let people make assumptions for what happened. (Didn't you miscarry? You weren't that far along right? Maybe it just wasn't meant to be...) But I remember...as does he. The father of my first child. When I went into labor, it was just us, two scared kids trying their best to play grownups, to keep it together while the world went to shit around them. Who held their tiny son as he labored to breathe, knowing that no amount of prayers or tears would make it right. No do overs...

I believe that is one of the reasons why, despite everything that came after, I still have love in my heart for my ex. Not romantic love, not even forever love...but its in there. Our son's death wasn't the first step to breaking us, but never dealing with it, seperately or together, certainly sped the process along...

But I wanted to talk about beauty.

Adrian. Named after my best friend. My beautiful boy with the curly hair. My eyes and mouth. His father's nose and eyelashes... I remember his eyelashes and the smell of his skin, the tiny fingers I would have given my life to have curl around mine, even for a second. I remember the months before, that first flutter that let me know I wasn't alone. How I would sing love songs to him when he seemed restless. The book I wrote to tell him how his father and I fell in love, what we hoped and dreamt for him, what kind of parents we would be...

All I have left is a half-finished baby book, the outfit they dressed him in, a curl of hair. I haven't looked at any of that in years...because in my dreams he is alive. Smiling. Happy. Gorgeous. He smiles and charms like his father, and he's dreamy and romantic like me. He brings me flowers and whispers in my ear about where he's been, where he is going, and when I will see him again.

For my beautiful son,

I love you. Always and Forever.

It's Complicated...

Wow - it's been over a month since my last post. My life has been so full of ups and downs, expected and unexpected events, tears, laughter, and general awe of people, that it feels like the month of July must have had at least a hundred days in it.

Got myself a job - yay me :).

Papers are signed, sealed, and about to be delivered. Again - yay me.

There's still a lion, still a snake, no more hamster... what animal could I use for the doctor-to-be? I'm thinking the puppy. Yep, now he's named so let's move it on.

July was hot - for more than one reason. Somehow I started taking on a role, then when I looked in the mirror I had to ask myself - is this what I am evolving into or is this what I'm settling for? Had to step back, remind myself about my "fuck the rules - I'll make my own damn rules, thank you very much" ways. May not manifest in everything I do - its pretty ingrained in there to not be "trouble" - but there are times, especially this past month, when I've earned my two new nicknames...

My girl E - the fairy with the two little girls - she helped me create and name my new persona - "Corn Bread". Two words people. Mainly its the downhome, comfy, makes you want to put your feet up, just sweet enough, no Southern meal should be without it, kind of person I am sometimes. Plus - who wants their cornbread anyway but thick? Lol...

The other one... its the one that gets whispered to me. When I walk (sashay with a bounce and a twist really) anywhere on my heels, when I'm pumping gas at the station next to a fine-ass man, when I'm rocking down the grocery aisle with my iPod on, looking at the wine, making eyes at the bagboy. Trouble. Ain't no good, didn't see it coming, gonna need some therapy and maybe an hour in a confessional kind of Trouble. Capital T. That one... it reminds me of why the boys called me Hollywood in high school. That feeling I've always had that there's a reason grown men still talk about that "church girl" from back in the day. I think its hilarious, empowering, makes me feel like a damn sexual Amazon...

Which is a fairly big statement considering how very pocket-sized I am in real-life, at least height-wise.

So, there's lots of changes happening in my life. Hey, you never know, next week I might be locked down, somebody might decide they liked it so they're gonna put a ring on it (wink)...

Yeah...no. I've got some fun to have before THAT happens. I'm 28. I'm "fairly" single. I'm open-minded, adventurous, and have great bad habits. I've got soul in my walk, in my hips, and in the kitchen. I have a heart that is wide-all-the-way open, and if you're lucky - very lucky - I just might let you hold onto it.

This is me. New and improved...and sure as hell not simple.

Love you!!!
- Asha

Anti-Venom...

I will be the first to admit that - when angry - I sometimes say things I shouldn't say. Not because I don't mean them and not because they aren't true...but because saying them publicly is not something I am 100% comfortable with.

So, yeah.

I spent some time yesterday with my friend's two daughters - because for me, being around children forces me to continue living where my emotions are pushing for a full stop. For a while I thought I could achieve the same through alcohol...nope. Working out, therapy, shopping, writing, painting, yoga - all great for a quick heart-fix. But when it comes to lasting effects, something to force me off my ass and back into the real world, there is nothing like being surrounded by the growing potential of a child.

Some people think that your potential for greatness fades the older you get. I'm guilty of thinking that way myself sometimes. But a child... every day their light gets brighter. Their possibilities double, triple...

I have to start thinking of myself, my own life, in the same matter. Full of possibilities, and with each day, my potential for greatness getting better, my light getting brighter.

Yesterday I felt like I was about to have that light snuffed out. I felt myself closing up, pulling into myself where I could guarantee my own safety... I just wanted to sleep, lose myself in friendly and loving dreams.

But those two little girls. One like an imp, all dimples and mischief. The other - so like me at her age its ridiculous. There is no way to block out the light of a loved child. It sings to your own, forces it out into the day, grabs it by the hand and plays "ring-around-the-rosy" with it...

One of the things I tell myself I have to look forward to is having children of my own. Being a mother. Finishing all of my novels. Travelling the world. Owning my cafe. Having a wonderfully supportive husband who is just mature enough but with a bit of their own childish heart left so that we can play together with our kids, making them laugh and giggle and showing them what love and life can be...

I remember my heart. Remember my brain too - not left, not right, but smack dab in the middle so my possibilities are endless. I remember who I have been and to be excited about who I still can be -tonight, tomorrow, twenty years from now.

I will be a woman that my family and friends can be proud of. One my children and husband can be proud of... who I can be proud of.

And, with that said, here's to letting go of the past, if not completely with the grace I hoped I would have, at least without venom.

Peace.
-Asha

Sensitive...

When I was a little girl I was constantly told that I was too sensitive - that I let things get to me more than other people. I was very empathetic - if someone else was crying, chances were I would tear up too... I guess it was embarrasing for my family, but in all honesty, it was just me being myself.

Received my divorce papers today - or at least the ones I was sent. I took one look at the manila envelope with my name on it and just broke. It wasn't that I was surprised... it was more that it made it real. No hiding from it, no pretending its happening to someone else, no burying myself so deep in someone else's problems that I can't see my own...

It's ridiculous really, feeling this way even though I know that we should have done this years ago - before it got to this point, before I became such an easy mark. "Shit, baby, she'll believe whatever I tell her. She loves me."

And I do. And I did. But now it burns in my gut, knowing that despite everything, he still thinks I can be erased, that I am easily replaceable, that I am a disposable wife.

Today, looking at the papers, reading the easy lies he made on them, knowing he thinks that I am still that girl, looking out for him, wanting the best for him, willing to take a bullet for him... I realize he killed that girl. Didn't know it until today. Didn't know I was brand spanking new until today. I can't tell if this is body armor I'm wearing now, if its permanent or not. I just know that today, every tear I've cried has made it stronger, made me stronger. I'm not drowning in them... not at all.

I will never be the girl he hints that I am now - promiscuous, flighty, stupid. It's his guilt over what he has done that he tries to paint me with, so that he feels better. But no honey. I'm not going out and getting drunk and sleeping with whatever sends me a half-smile. I'm not killing my soul. I'm not searching for a cure to my heartsickness - its why I am alone now. Not lonely - just by myself. You tell me you like being on your own; bitch, you don't know what it is to be alone - truly alone - with four walls and a dog as your only company. To know that you have been abandoned by the one person who promised to always have your back... To hear the lie in their voice for months. "Of course I'm going to send for you baby! We'll be together soon. I can't wait to see your face. Think. In a year we could be the ones sending out baby announcements... I love you so much. You're home to me. You're my queen. Always and forever darling..."

Maybe I am too sensitive. Maybe I do walk around with a wounded heart. Maybe I am too scared to make love to anyone else because that would mean that I love them and I'm too scared to love anyone. Maybe I am sitting here, typing out what I wish I could say to your face, what I hoped I would never ever have to say to someone I loved more than my own life...

Tell you one thing I'm not anymore. Naive. I pushed you for 13 years to embrace your potential to be a wonderful man. For 13 months, you've pushed me out of your life. I know you still believe that I am the reason you aren't flourishing, that you can't find love, that your encounters leave you unsatisfied, that you feel out of place in your own skin...

Whatever will you do when you realize the truth?

Know this.

Because of the lies in these papers you sent me, the lies you told me over the years as you laughed behind my back at how gullible I was, the punishments you meted out to me for not being good enough, the love you withheld, the cage you built around me, the emotional abuse I endured at your hands... I'm breaking my promise.

The one I made to you. The forever promise. I gave you my heart freely. You said yourself that you purposefully stomped it into the ground because you felt you could. That everything you did was because you could and because there was no one to stop you. That you naturally took advantage.

I see who and what you are now.

You don't deserve my promises, my love, my support, or my friendship. You don't deserve my leniency so, with truth on my side, I plan to fight you. Be prepared - you've never seen this side of me before. You don't deserve the benefit of the doubt, you don't deserve the luxury of hiding your sins with the darkness.

And you know what else? You don't deserve any more space on this blog.

May God have mercy on you, if it is his will to do so.

-A.

28 Candles

Growing up I had a fascination with holidays - mainly because I wasn't allowed to celebrate any of them. I wondered how it would feel to give and receive gifts on special days, to follow traditions cultivated over the years, to feel a sense of unity within all cultures because of a certified "Holy Day". I was most interested - a bit selfishly I might add - in birthdays. I remember parents popping into classrooms with cake and juice, singing "Happy Birthday", and someone, for that one day, getting to make a wish...

My secret is that every year, on my birthday, even when I wasn't able to celebrate it, I always made a wish for myself. Sometimes it was that my birthday could magically move to during the school year so that I could celebrate it with my friends. Sometimes it was that my mother would have a change of heart and I could finally have that birthday party I always wanted...

Sometimes it was for a kiss.

Two nights ago I celebrated the birth of one of my new/old friends. An amazing woman with a light in her that I am in awe of. She's a little thing - physically. Kind of like a Puerto Rican fairy :). But she has strength - of heart, of character... And as I watched her get her "Single Ladies" dance on, I made a wish for her. To have love come into her life. A growing, embracing, incredible love. She deserves it...

And then I looked at myself and asked "why is it so much easier now to make wishes for others? Don't I deserve a little 'birthday magic' too?"

Out of all the things that I believe in - both magical and mundane - I find it is hardest sometimes to believe that I deserve something great in my life. It is easy for me to see the potential, the glow, in other people, but when it comes to myself - I can talk the talk, but I don't believe it.

Trying to be better about that. I thank the Divine every day for what has come into my life in the last six months, both people-wise and experience-wise. I believe in the magic of moments - and I have had some of the most wonderful moments of my life within such a short period of time. Much of it required uncommon action on my part - so I wonder if I continue with said action, who is to say that the magic moments will stop? I'm thinking about that part at least.

Today is my 28th birthday. I may have awoken with a bitch of a hangover, but I plan to ride this out until midnight. I want to watch the stars and make my birthday wishes - yes plural. I want to say my private birthday prayer - which is kind of like a wish but mostly a really big Thank you that I am still here, alive, kicking, breathing, shining... There may not be any cake to share, but my love for you all is boundless - plus, no sugar crash :).

(Fair warning for all haters - move the fuck on. I plan to rock this life of mine, no matter what you try to throw at me. That's the only one you get, so take it serious.)

One time for all the Cancer girls!!! Muah!

Always and Forever,
-Asha

With this ring...

Ten years ago I was fully and completely in love. I may not have been all that excited about the future we were careening towards, nor did I feel completely in control of my life. But I did know with absolute certainty that when he took my hand, kissed my lips, placed his cheek on my belly, that I was safe, loved, cherished...

Five months later I was a married woman - with no idea how I'd gotten married, why it didn't feel 100% right, how to be a wife when I'd barely settled the idea that I was a woman. There were doubts leading up to the nuptials and doubts during and doubts after. The one thing I didn't doubt at all was that I had married the right man. I want to say that I was young and naive, that didn't see the warning signs because all I could see was him... and maybe that is true. Or maybe it just is what I think it is. The best of possibilities, the wrong timing. And that just sucks all around.

My birthday is next Saturday. I've been letting this blog grow as I do, change as I have, put my questions out into the universe, regardless of whether they get commented on or answered - I am a big believer in the intent and the effort and the thought counting. Today, my thoughts are on the ring that lives in my jewelry box, still loved, still meaning, still a weight to hold me down.

I remember when I was standing underneath those trees in the darkness, surrounded by people who were supportive and loving. I remember both of us having tears in our eyes, shaking a little, scared. I remember feeling swallowed by light when he slipped that ring onto my finger...

Ring has been off my finger for months now. I still sometimes rub the space where it was, when I'm nervous, when I'm edgy. I am still shocked sometimes that it isn't there - though an indentation of ten years is.

When he first abandoned me, with promises to return, to make our lives right, to give me the babies I had wanted and waited for for years... I took it off. Because part of me knew it was over - that he was lying to me again, trying to make himself feel better about it all. At that point I had no trust left - and rightfully so. But within a month, when I was struggling financially and knew I would have to do something drastic to keep myself afloat - it wasn't the diamond engagement ring that you got me after the Heidi-fiasco. It wasn't the garnet earrings you got me after Shannon. It wasn't the necklace from the very first one - whose name you say you don't recall, which makes it that much worse.

It was the ring, my ring. The one we picked out together when my belly was rounded with your child and there was still light and love in both of our eyes. We were in Parkland, visiting my very best friend, and being the team of two that we had always been, instinctive, dedicated, powerfully in love. We were so broke it was ridiculous - but we weren't unhappy. Money wasn't motivating us - a passion for each other was. You picked that ring because it was special and delicate and beautiful and unique - everything you said that I was.

You were the one who named me Asha.

Today I am going to sell that ring. Not for spite, more for necessity. And I am crying because I feel like it will kill my memories of that twosome, of being full of love, of believing in promises...

Might need some positive energy sent my way - its harder than I thought it would be.

-Asha

The Yellow Crayon

(Note: This is gonna be a two-part blog, simply because of the complete change in tone. Promise this is not a sign of any schizophrenia on my part - it's the days that have been like that - I'm going with the flow.)

Being back in my hometown for a week reminded me of some truths about myself, things that I've had to look at, remember, and decide whether or not to claim them again. For one - I'm still looking for home. It's not a place really - more of a state of mind. I'll know when I've got it, I remember what it used to look like for me, and it is something I can look forward to again. Two - my circle of strong women is growing, changing, evolving, and embracing of this new me. It felt good to be accepted, to be loved and not criticized, to get high fives from fiercely fabulous females who understand the chaos that I am living, the struggle to be not just independent but SUCCESSFULLY independent, the desire to be loved at my most unlovable... I spent a lot of my time in Miami in tears. I felt Grace and Hope and Despair and a lot of other things...

When I returned I got two surprises. One was that I had been missed. Two was who was doing the missing. It's confusing to realize that while you were doing your best to follow the rules, say the right things and hold back the wrong ones, to not push... that the rules are still being broken, things are being said that can't be unsaid, and little nudges are backing you into a very uncomfortable corner.

Friend of mine got married this weekend. I wished him Mazel Tov via text message while angrily drinking vodka lemonade and wishing desperately for the cigarettes I've never smoked in my life. Why did I care?

My little sister told me that this whole divorce thing should be taken as a learning experience, one of life's lessons in store for me. She said I should look back over my relationship and recognize all of the signs there were that no matter how good of a wife I was, how faithful, how "eager to please", this shit was bound to blow up in my face... she didn't say all that but I am improvising. The thing is, while I was in Miami, inundated by ghosts of my past, memories that hurt like hell at every damn corner, I started to see what she meant. Things that I let him get away with, that I went along with for his favor, things I did that killed a little bit of me because I knew they were wrong but I did them anyway...

And I cared because those signs I just named for my doomed relationship - I see them in his. He's going to get hurt...and I have to let him.

It's strange - this whole hindsight thing. It really does give you clarity. They don't tell you how much putting yourself under a microscope will hurt... and it does. Like the damn dickens. I carried that hurt with me onto the plane, placed it in the overhead compartment, wheeled it through the airport, and drove it home with me. It's like a thundercloud over my head and the last few days I've felt like its been raining for forty days and forty nights...

You can imagine the mood it put me in. Emotional. Vulnerable. Unsure of anything. Reaching out for some unknown cure-all without really knowing what exactly I was looking for...

Sure as heck didn't find it in the bottom of a bottle, that's for sure. Cause I looked - heck I'm still looking if we're being honest.

When I came home and opened my door, I noticed that I had put a current painting-in-the-works back on my easel before I left. Variations of yellow, which I did when I was in a hot and sexy mood. I expected the lift I always get when I see it... instead I just felt tired and lonely and in desperate need of a hug. I spent the next day and a half trying to pull myself out of the funk with no results... I went to support my friend at an art show and even in my yellow dress I felt out of place - like my skin was too big or something. Went out for drinks the same night and got accosted by some drunk motherfucker who thought that putting your hands on a woman's breasts - after said woman had warned you twice about invading her personal space and inappropriate touching - was completely acceptable drunk behavior. I wavered between wanting to stomp his nuts into the ground and running away in tears - mortified. Damn yellow didn't work later, despite a very creative man's interpretation of "Woman, thou art loosed" played in a studio...

Yellow - sexiest color in the crayon box - was failing me miserably.

Tonight I feel like a yellow crayon - accidentally but irrevocably broken. Maybe with the break still inside the sleeve, so if you try to use it, you realize immediately that something is wrong. Perhaps it was a long time coming, or a recent development, but there is no denying that its broken now. I'm kind of looking around in shock, wondering how in the hell I accomplished this one. Too available? Lack self-respect? Too emotional? Difficult to love?

I don't believe any of those by the way. I love myself. I don't play "catch me - kiss me" games. I'm honest and earthy. I know what I want and what I don't, what I'm ready for and what I need more time on...

I think I told you that I watch old TV shows like "Buffy the Vampire Slayer". Just finished the final season and in the very last episode she talks about how she's "cookie dough". The analogy was kind of adorable, but completely understandable to me. That's how I feel. I'm cookie dough - not quite done baking yet. Not sure who's going to end up with cookie-me in the end (though they would be very blessed to do so), and I'm not trying to figure that out until I'm ready.

Sorry about the yellow crayon-cookie analogy. Too much TV I guess :).

Here's to trying to figure it out, having the guts to admit when you've fucked up, and to waking up tomorrow morning ready to start it all over again - because that's what fighters and bad-asses do.

Still love you.

-Asha

Dammit Janet!

(Excuse the randomness of this blog. When I get back home, I will have my shit together - promise. )

There is a place in Charlotte, kind of looks like a warehouse or something, called "Dammit Janet". No shit, that's really the name. I don't know what goes on there but whenever I see the sign I want to pull over and find out... haven't had the time yet.


I've been in Miami for five days. I've done almost no homework. I've cried A LOT. I've sung out my frustrations with Alanis Morissette during karaoke. I've been drinking like a fish. I've visited my son's grave. I've been hugged and sent love by some of the most amazing women I know. I've looked at my mother and finally seen her for the woman she is...and realized that I can truly love her, because flaws breed character and forgiveness is divine...and I looked into the eyes of the boy I've loved all my life, and did not feel negative, did not feel hurt, understood what the situation is with no room for bs, and accepted it. The love is still there. Will always be there - but at this point in my life, I need more, deserve more, than affection based on lots of years. I want someone to be madly, totally in love with me. So we're knocking on door number 2 there...

Side-tracked - sorry. There's a lot jumbled up in my head.

I've been staying with a friend - a girl who I've loved forever, my soul sista. And she has reminded me, almost on a daily basis, of the girl I was before - pre-marriage, pre-sex, pre-complications. Even then, way back when, I was Asha...just didn't know it yet. I had the female version of swag :). I was flirty and interesting and nerdy and a little hopelessly adorable. I had crooked glasses, a bright green jacket, a huge heart, and a hunger...to be more, to succeed, to dare.

It's one of the reasons I am so glad I reconnected with old friends and continue to do so. They help me remember that there was so much to me, even then, before I let a man take over my life. Dammit I was feisty!

In fact, I've been a bit feisty since I stepped onto Miami soil... I remember that when I was that girl so many years ago, my goal was to be sexy as Janet Jackson, savvy as Oprah, and as talented as Toni Morrison... and I've had to wonder - what are my goals now? Who do I want to be when I grow up? What kind of woman should I be now, what risks should I take, what hopes should I hold onto? What dreams should I let become reality?

Don't really want to be Oprah - I have no desire to multi-task like that...and Toni Morrison? Still great but my writing has evolved beyond a single genre, so dropping that one too...

Listened to and watched several Janet Jackson videos... "If". "What's it Gonna Be". "Velvet Rope". "Doesn't Really Matter"...and yeah. Still wanna be her. :)

Dammit Janet - lol.

Your girl is back!

-Asha

Home Again...

I found myself on a flight "home" today, destined to catch up with old friends, see an old love, hug my family, and do my very best to not immediately want to fly on back to the Queen City...

Miami is full of ghosts for me. Born and raised in Dade, there aren't many places I don't know, haven't been, where memories of an Asha-past live. It's one of the reasons why coming here is so hard, why I've been dragging my feet, putting it off...but eventually, life and reality catches up with you. You can always go home again, but sometimes you really don't want to.

Don't get me wrong. There is much I love about my hometown. And I tend to bring the "Miami-girl" with me wherever I am... that's not the current issue.

Over the past few months, my evolution has led me to growth and strength I didn't know I had, didn't know I was capable of having. I'm different - I both acknowledge and accept that. But this is also brand-new, just out the womb, frighteningly fragile. And I worry that returning home, to where I was small, pushed into a box, unloved and afraid, completely lacking in radiance and light... I worry that my return has happened too soon.

I left love behind - in Charlotte, in Miami. Not just the romantic kind, though that is true too. :) But I found that, upon deplaning and once again being on my "birth-soil", I felt that I had been split in two, and that a missing part of myself was found again...

I have to admit that there is more Miami in me than I confess to. :) I can drive like a soldier in the rain, eat the spiciest foods, break into Spanglish as necessary, breathe deep in heat that would stifle most Charlotteans...and the ocean - she still sings to me.

I used to wonder at those songs. Were they the mythical siren's songs, calling me to my doom? Or were they lullabies...coaxing me to sleep, to dream, to desire more?

I have yet to see my family. But I have seen the rain. I have yet to confront my wayward lover. But I have cemented for myself that, without him, there is so much good in store for me in my life. Good that thinks I am amazing and beautiful and so much more, so why keep crying about it? I may not be rocking the six-pack I always wanted but I finally got to drive a hot red car... :)

Pluses and minuses...what would life be like without them?

So I'm home again...

...and its not too bad. :)


Love yourself.
-Asha

Once Upon a Time...

...there lived in a faraway land named 305 a little girl named Asha. She loved Disney movies and fervently believed that one day her prince would come. As she got older and smarter, she began to wonder what the hell was taking him so long to find her. Was he lost? Side-tracked? Decided he was gay? Her patient waiting turned to frustration and her romantic heart got sick...very sick.

After years with no end of her waiting in sight, the little girl decided that, if Prince Charming wasn't coming to her - then fuck him and the horse he was probably riding in on. It was false bravado - she knew in her heart that without someone to love and be loved by, a part of her, a big part, would always feel incomplete...

Cut to present day. Little Asha is damn-near grown now, nearing her 30th birthday, and daily has to fight to hold onto the little hope she has. There is someone who brings sparkle to her life, but the timing isn't right... There was someone who loved her once but decided that they had to spread that love around to as many people as possible - why stick with just one flower when you're living in a garden of plenty? There was one who tricked her, gave her false hope, showed her something different...

For privacy's sake, let's call them the Hamster, the Lion, and the Snake.

Currently, the Hamster has her confused. What hate she had - and she must admit, after her ordeal there was a little bit of hate - has recently evaporated. She reminisces about the good times and feels the emptiness of her home more keenly then ever. Not looking for a redo or a "for old time's sake"... just wondering what it was about her that he couldn't love... Wondering if there is something she could change so that new love can enter her life.

The Snake got to her in a vulnerable moment - like Eve. Promised that by eating the Forbidden Fruit, she would gain valuable knowledge, freedom from set norms, release from her pedestal... But like the original serpent, he too was a liar, a false friend. The love words that had begun to rumble up from her stomach now lay as ashes on her tongue. Lesson learned.

But it is the Lion - her lion. The one who, like Aslan, is not a "tame" lion. He smiles and shakes his mane and roars and something answers inside of her. She doesn't know if they match, but she does know that there is truth in what she feels for him. The unknown is a scary place for her, and she tries her best to control that which cannot be forced, leaving her unsteady, unsure, scared...

But scared is not an end. Scared is simply an understandable reaction to something honest in a dishonest world. Not one word has she uttered false to him - a first for her. And her arms may have always been open, but her heart has never been cold. There is much she could tell him, about her first feelings - denied, hidden. Much she could say about her secret dreams.

Can someone look like a lion and be Prince Charming in disguise?

Hmmm....

Well, one thing is for sure. This story will definitely have a happy ending, one way or another...

For now that it is simply - to be continued. :)

Good night Beautiful People.

-Asha

Stick a fork in me...

I've been tossing around a lot of ideas for life changes the last few days, specifically trying to cement what exactly it is (who it is?) that I am done with. You know that feeling when you realize there are a lot of superfluous people in your life, you're not really sure how they all got there or what their role is, but you're starting to think they need to get the fuck out?

I was extremely happy about making new friends up here in Charlotte. Believe me, I miss my Miami friends, even the ones who don't live in Miami anymore, but being solamente up here in the Queen City was extra rough, especially after being abandoned...

But here's the thing. I know my heart can hold an infinite amount of love for these people. But it's been six months since my separation and I'm still having to retell the story to people who haven't contacted me in over a year but keep popping up into my life. Yeah I'm getting a divorce, no it doesn't make me warm and fuzzy, yes I still talk to him, no I don't need you to fly down there to bust any kneecaps, yes I'm sure, can we move on please?

Then there are those in my life, closer to me, who have begun to let me down a bit. I can feel the relationship changing, how it doesn't seem to fit as well anymore. Makes me nervous - I'm a lot stronger than I was six months ago, but I don't know if I'm strong enough to let those people go. What will I do without them? Am I ready to stand on my own two feet, stop clinging onto those hands and stride proudly into the unknown?

Big thing on my mind recently? Men. Damn them :). Because I know nothing about men, socializing, dating... kind of skipped all that, went straight for the "til death" business. I don't know how to flirt, how to score a date, how to know how long to wait until you get to the naked parts...cause I'm awfully partial to the naked parts. I'm exuding the confidence, but, apparently, also exuding the "Fuck off I'm taken" vibe.

But I'm not taken. Offered it - got denied. Free agent, at least in my head. Damn heart still feels otherwise, so I'm probably coming off as a tease of some sort. Flirty things come out of my mouth, unencumbered laughter, shit, I even wear the "single ladies" shoes... but when it comes to closing the deal, I stammer, act like I've got a big hulking boyfriend about to rush through the door, giggle, spaz out, and do an "Okay...well...bye!"

Sheesh.

This single shit is not for the faint of heart. Girls, I don't know how you do it.

Had a conversation with a guy (very nice, very taken so he was easy to talk to) who told me that I am a "relationship girl". Specifically, he said that someone like me shines extra bright with the right companion... I know that my peeps are telling me I need to be on my own for a while, learn me, take care and heal...but dammit I'm built a certain way and too much "me-time" makes me crazy.

I want to be in love.

I want to hear love words whispered in my ears. I want strong arms wrapped around me. I want to smile and feel like "yeah, I could take you in a fight, but this guy right here? He'd break your arms off if you tried anything.". I want to reach over in the middle of the night and put my cold feet on warm legs. I want to snuggle close. I want to cook him dinner, pour my heart into his plate and know that he recognizes the gift. I want to look over at him in a crowded room and smile over a shared private joke. I want to be pulled into the rain and kissed... I feel like I have all this love, gift-wrapped and waiting to be given away to the "right" man...but so far, I'm 0-2 here.

So I stand on the precipice, not knowing what will happen when I shoot myself over the edge, scared to death and impatient at the same time. I need to make room in my life (even though some days it feels like I have nothing BUT room) for whatever is being sent my way. Knock off the deadwood, strip myself to the new, and be ready for a fresh start - no baggage, no expectations.

As for the old, the useless, the people in my life who bring nothing but misery to the table, who, despite my best efforts, refuse to see what is right in front of their faces, to those who see the beauty but lack the courage to claim it - I'm sorry for you. I hurt for your loss. I break a little...

But I'm done.

Iri'ni.

-Asha

I am Changing...

There's nothing like a trip down memory lane to either make you nostalgic or make you want to kick your former self's ass... I've been going through a combo as people from my past have been popping up with the "Hey! How've you been? Remember when...?"

Been having some "yikes" moments over some of my antics. I am the first to admit to my nerdiness, my general awkwardness in social situations, that I will open my mouth to spout poetry and end up with something that sounds remotely like Klingon...lol. Sheesh - this is why I write. You've got spell check and the delete button. In real life, talking to people - not so much.

I actually had a new-old friend take it back to middle school for me. If you knew me in middle school, you're probably giggling right now. Remembering the thick coke-bottle glasses, hand-me-down clothes I tried desperately to make trendy, the stars in my eyes over just about every boy in school, the whoppers I told (like that I had a twin who went to a different school - and I actually pulled that one off for a few weeks!). Playing matchmaker, daydreaming in science class, singing in Prism choir, holding torrid affairs entirely in my head with various members of the Jazz Band...

Not exactly what this evolving woman wants to be reminded of.

I think this is part of the reason I chose to teach middle school - because I'm not too far from the awkward girl I was, tripping over herself, consistently mortified, still holding torrid affairs with various people completely in my head :). I understand the animal that a pre-teen is...and I understand how big of a difference it makes to know that, despite your awkward crazy hormone-driven madness, somebody still smiles for you every day.

I love all of my students - present-tense. I may not teach anymore, I may not always immediately remember their names when I see them - but I still love them all. And sometimes I think that is why I was good at what I did. My love was solid, constant. Yes I definitely wanted to strangle a couple of them, knock their heads together, shake them and say "do you realize what a spaz you are?" But the thing is...it never changed how I felt. I still feel it everytime I walk into an old school and see them. I still get the urge to want to teach them something.

When I drive out early to yoga class and I see kids waiting at the bus stop, I smile because I remember being like them. Especially on the first day of school. Nervous about everything. Excited. It was the reinvention, the anticipation of what and who I could create out of myself that year...

I think I brought this subject up because when I reminisce with old friends I think about who and what I am creating out of myself this year. When January 1st rolled around, I was by myself in my bathroom, all made up with nowhere to go, no one to kiss for the first time in over 12 years. I was uncertain about what exactly I was looking at, but I knew that everything was going to get different. Already I had felt a change in myself. I had stopped spending my nights crying out my loneliness. I looked in the mirror and I knew I wanted to save that girl. She was familiar to me... but I said to myself "This. Whatever this is, this sadness, this fear, this floundering feeling. This is NOT the end of your story. It's the beginning. Whatever becomes of you from here is of your own making...so cheer the fuck up."

Made the decision to move forward, to embrace my past but to keep it firmly there. Two days later, I cemented that decision with action. At the time I wasn't sure what exactly would be the casualty of my decision, but now that I know - it was worth it.

I love the girl I was. She may have been a spaz, but she had potential...even way back then. I can go even further back... first day of kindergarten. I was more intrigued then scared. I remember that even my mom looked a bit teary-eyed, along with the other random kids kicking and screaming about not wanting to go. What did I do?

Walked in (I was wearing a first-day of school dress, little white socks with lace on the edge, Mary Jane shoes), sat down at a desk quite primly, and crossed my legs like a lady. When I spoke to my kindergarten teacher years later, she still chuckled about what I said when she asked my name. Clear as you please "Miss Latoya Moore". And apparently I was looking around with a combination of fascination and disgust... even then. Even so very long ago I was able to create for myself exactly what I needed to progress.

I expect to make missteps. I expect to do the wrong thing. But I will be damned if I'm going to beat myself up over it. Especially as I feel I am on the right path...and every day I fall a little bit more in love with the girl I am becoming...

A change really will do you good. :)

Diakatra!!!
-Asha

M.I.A.....

When I was younger I had friends who would confide in me their deepest, darkest secrets. Things they didn't share with anybody, things they were sometimes too afraid to say out loud...and every time, every single time, I listened. Not because I had to, not because I was just being polite...but because I understood early on that this would be a part of my path. The Non-Judgmental Confessor if you will. :)

The fact is, there is nothing I have ever been told that made me love someone less. My heart may have hurt, I may have wanted to issue some warning, and I guarantee that I probably had the thought that I could save you from yourself... but every time I felt that way, I shook myself, checked that ego of mine.

I have never thought of myself as better than anyone else. I might take a different path if faced with a similar decision, but it doesn't mean I think I'm right. On the contrary, I am extremely aware that sometimes I lead myself astray, with my emotions, with my instincts, with my need to please... I've been known to paint myself into a corner a time or two. Then look up, realize I just screwed myself, and mutter "Oh Shit".

I think there has been a lot of postings on this blog bordering on TMI, but every word, every syllable, has been necessary for me. It is a place for me to both reign in my ego and "let 'er rip" as needed. One of the things I love about free speech is that forums like this can exist...

Which leads me to the reason for this blog. There is a woman I know - fascinating, inspiring, liberated, willing to hope in hopeless situations and full of love. There is nothing I wish for her more than pure bliss in her life... but not everyone feels that same way. For those horrible haters, she has chosen to extinguish a part of her light, to save hurt feelings, to crawl more into herself as us Cancer-girls are apt to do....

I hate that when I click to see her blog now its gone. That her words, honest, ballsy, brilliant, are missing. She is the one who gave me the courage to post my heart - regardless of consequences. I love you honey for that and so much more. You may be missing in action for today, but we are women fighting this war together - to live our most honest lives, to say "fuck the rules", to be open to passion and to destroy that damn limiting pedestal.

Today I am listening to Sade's "Soldier of Love" and missing my friend. And I am posting the lyrics for anyone, like me, like her, who are still in the trenches, trying to live their lives and embrace the love that comes into it.

Balls to the Walls.

-Asha

"Soldier of Love" - Sade

I've lost the use of my heart
But I'm still alive
Still looking for the life
The endless pool on the other side
It's a wild wild west
I'm doing my best

I'm at the borderline of my faith,
I'm at the hinterland of my devotion
In the frontline of this battle of mine
But I'm still alive

I'm a soldier of love.
Every day and night
I'm a soldier of love
All the days of my life

I've been torn up inside - oh
I've been left behind
So I ride
I have the will to survive

In the wild wild west
Trying my hardest
Doing my best
To stay alive

I am love's soldier!

I wait for the sound

I know that love will come
that love will come
Turn it all around

I'm a soldier of love.

Sunshine...

One of my favorite movies ever is The Wizard of Oz. Not because I have a thing for flying monkeys, tornados, and midgets mind you...excuse me, "little people". Gotta be PC. :) No, besides turning me into a shoe-whore for life, it was the wishes, the power of the wish, the hopeful optimism, the damn Courage with a capital C.

Trying to live my life like that can be...draining, honestly. Because there are people who suck all the hope out of a room just by entering it, people who refuse to believe in anything at all. I wonder if they even believe in themselves...at the very least.

It is not my purpose in life to be one of those hopeless people...but I have my less than hopeful moments. Between yesterday and today...had a lot of those. It made me angry first, spitting mad, wanting to fight something - anything really. But later, much later... I was just sad. So damn sad and disappointed. I talk big when I've got my mad on but in all honesty... it isn't in me to cause pain to someone I have wished happiness for over a decade...

I remember when I thought the sun rose and fell for him. He was my hero, my savior, he was my damn Batman :). I told him all the stuff I was too shy to tell anyone else, and he did the same. We had some awesome times together, just hanging out, being in the same space. Both of us awkward, trying to pretend we were grownups, whispering out of the corners of our mouths "Do you know what the fuck we're supposed to do?". The memory of that man makes me smile and I hope that one day he comes back...because I still wish him happiness.

But these days I have had to learn to be my own best friend, hero, savior. These days I'm the goddamn Batman (that one was for you D <3 ). And my wishes include those for my own happiness, in whatever form it takes, and the wisdom to be able to recognize it when it finally gets here.

The choice to be positive, to remember to say thank you for all that I have received, will receive, and will have the opportunity to give, some days its hard for me. But I am extra blessed - as the people in my life seem to know exactly when those times are, when I REALLY need to talk, or when I just need to sit near someone I love and breathe it in...

This morning I woke up unsettled. I felt like the expiration dates for so much in my life were quickly closing in. I felt a little like I was being slowly choked to death... so I did the positive thing. Got out of bed anyway, took a shower, headed to yoga.

Didn't get into yoga this morning - maybe I wasn't meant to. But when I got back into my car and turned the key in the ignition, there was only one person I could think of, one person I knew that - just by sitting close to them, breathing them in - I would get the strength I needed to meet the day.

He did me one better. He let me curl up on his red couch and left me alone for a bit, not crowding me, letting the tears fall that needed to, silently sending me strength and not asking for anything in return. I was having a "Flaws and All" day and he wasn't scared by my morning trainwreck :). I listened to him puttering around in the kitchen while I spoke to my ex and I thought "if even one person believes enough in your strength, in your capability to come out on top, anything - ANYTHING - can be possible".

So I hung up the phone, went upstairs, and took a shower - I felt like I was carrying two days of grime from the tears and the anger and the rage. And the water was cold. And I couldn't find the soap. And I slipped a little...but I was smiling. And when I opened my mouth - a love song spilled out.

So I believe in the hope still, in the "somewhere over the rainbow", in the "no place like home". I believe in the courage, the persistence of the heart to believe in anything. I believe that a girl like me still has good stuff in store for her life.

I believe in the damn sunshine... :)

Been a while since I have wished you peace Reader. Forgive me - I wish you peace and love and so very much more...

Ashtee!
-Asha

Hurt? Negro please....

Somewhere before last night's loveliness and this morning's rude awakening, some things became imminently clearer to me.

One? Fuck the bullshit. We know what really went down that led to this shit. You can tell yourself you did the noble thing if it helps you sleep at night - whatever, I don't care. Because you and I both know the real reasons we are through. And I have started on this path of truthfulness and I won't be protecting you anymore. Especially because you have started to believe the lies you are telling yourself and everyone else...

Second? You were right when you said you weren't worth the tears, the anger, the general despair I was thrown into, the shame I felt... you were so damn right. I can admit that much - but that's all you will get from me.

Third? This is your trainwreck - not mine. You fucked it up - this could have been so easy. But the hypocrisy, the late night text messages, the requests for sexy pictures, the apologies... it was in my heart to make this easy for you, even with my friends and family calling me every kind of fool. Did you forget I know where all the bodies are buried? I know the shit you pulled that could fuck up your future... I know that shit you are trying to pull now with me. :) Did you forget who the brains of the family was? I know shit I guarantee you don't think I know...so please don't try me.

Fourth? You were my friend before you were my man. I treated you like gold for 13 fucking years and I deserve more than the bullshit you've been feeding me since you found out on Saturday that I wasn't sitting around like a nun waiting for your ass... And I am not one bit sorry. Don't hate that I am evolving into something beautiful as you get grimier by the second - isn't that why she broke it off? Lack of honesty on your part? Still can't keep it in your pants for one girl at a time???

I feel like I am burning - literally on fire. But it isn't rage - more righteous indignation. I know why you said what you did this morning. You've done it to me for years, but you don't know the right buttons to push anymore. It made you powerful to see me cry, to bring me low, because you always knew I was meant for better. But I'm not crying now son. Not one fucking tear.

For my readers - I apologize for this rant. I apologize for the tmi. I tried - I really did try, but sometimes you have to put your business out there. Don't feel sorry for me. I'm not damn sorry. I am well-loved, respected, and admired... and very much through with the bullshit.

Moving forward - purposefully. No one is lost to me, and for that I am grateful. I love my sisters and brothers, my extended family, my adoptive grandma more than life. And even if they turn from me for this - I will always be there.

Guess I am continuing with this exorcism of mine :).

Let's keep it going!

-Asha

Danger...

There are two sides to me - the rational side and the irrational one. One seems to manifest more than the other during certain times of the month, and I usually can keep that in check. But things have been in upheaval for a while now, so irrational me has taken free reign...

What began as an honest opening of my heart is quickly becoming akin to sinking into quicksand. I actually dreamt about quicksand, maybe a couple of weeks before this all occurred. I had started thinking about the state of my romantic life, how it might be possible that it was stagnant because of my lack of cojones... I kept feeling like I wanted more than anything to reach out and instead I was sitting on my hands, battling with the fear.

And there is a lot of fear involved. Such a delicate situation... and through it I am starting to question my convictions. What kind of girl am I really? And, at this point in my evolution, am I really good for anyone?

Those are the thoughts that kept me up late last night, wondering what force was making me push so hard for some unknown response from someone who has already made their position clear. And the rational part of me both understands and respects that position...

That flip side of me though? She's dangerous... playing a dangerous game with her heart. Sometimes I split off and watch her - flirting, swaying, dreaming up impossible things. She throws herself into situations with abandon, with little or no regard for the fire she could get burned with. It's like she loves the fire, dancing closer and closer to it, regardless of how much it hurts.... I don't understand her really.

It worries me that I don't have control over her or this situation I'm in. I would say I am going with my instincts, but the truth is - I'm just going...hoping that somehow something will go right. I wonder both if I am losing myself or gaining more than I was...which outcome would be better. If I make this decision, will I be able to live with it?

My mind told me this morning - after a horrible bunch of worst-case scenario nightmares - to maybe lay off the blogging for a while... but I will never be ready for that close up of mine if, when it gets rough, when its too hard, too painful to look at, that I stop. The title for my blog has to do with my looking at myself under a lens, piece by piece, atom by atom, so that I can get a clearer picture of who I am. And right now, a lot of who I am is a whirlwind of feelings and emotions, both rational and irrational. Not always manifesting in sensical prose - sometimes coming off as a manic rant (see last blog :) ). But its honest. A very honest portrait of the woman I am becoming everyday...

I am capable of great love and undying loyalty. I am both extremely sensitive and protective of my heart. I send positive energies into the universe even as I feel the darkness edging into my soul... There are so many different contrasts to me that it would take an extremely special person to deal...

Not sure who the person will be, though I do know who I would like to take the job. Can't force it though, I have to remember that...

But hey, at least I warned you first :).

Believe.

-Asha

The Elephant in the Room, an Exorcism, and other Mad Randomness...

I think a lot about this "starting fresh" idea, where, in my current life, I am supposed to be starting from scratch, re-learning about myself, reconnecting with my ideas and hopes and dreams...

What I have realized is that change is hard when there is a 210lb elephant in the room. You can't hide it under the rug, push it into a junk drawer, shove it into the storage shed on your balcony...because eventually it will start to make noise, inevitably pissing you off.

I have tried very hard to be both reasonable and respectful of the upheaval in my life, but I have yet to gain control of my temper - especially when dealing with utter hypocrisy... I mean, you have a woman 100% devoted to you, you treat her dirty and abandon her, then someone else recognizes the gem you threw away and YOU get mad??? Sheesh - I always thought we women were hard to understand...

Then there is the other elephant in the room - the pink one. Hovering above our heads while we watch videos, me looking at you out of the corner of my eye, waiting for something - anything to happen, to prove that - yes I really did say it, and I meant what I said so for God's sake REACT!

I'm laughing at myself as I'm writing this, as I recognize situations I have placed myself in recently where there's been a darn elephant lurking around somewhere...

Really, it's not like a Voldemort situation, but it feels like it. I can say the words. Divorce. Love. Sex. Violence. How about this one: Rebound. That's the biggest one for me, because when I realized that it was love in my heart, making me feel all sparkley, everyone I told tried to tell me "girl, it's a rebound. You don't fall for the rebound!"

Too late. :) I never was one to follow the rules - at least pre-wedding. Then follows ten years of following all the rules, with no effect. Because its really hard to play a clean game of UNO with someone who doesn't know the rules, could give a fuck less about the rules, will play anyway they can as long as they come out on top, and by the way - can we change the name?

I used to avoid mirrors...and men...and fun for that matter. Because in my life, as much as I can call it my own, the number one spot was filled. Now, God is number one. Me - I'm number two. My family and friends share four and five - but I would really like to fill that number three spot.

Someone new in my life told me that I'm a "relationship girl", the kind of woman who needs a companion, because of my need to share and comfort, to make someone smile and feel special, to support, to hug, to dream with... I guess its okay that even in my current non-romantic relationships that is the role I take. I'm comfortable there - it feels right...

But at night when I'm alone and I am endlessly aware that my two-person bed has only one person in it, it hurts. A lot. This may have been the right choice, but it wasn't my choice. I hate that when I had every right to stand up for myself, I played the hopeful doormat instead. I hate that I cried so much...I hate that I felt three seconds of guilt for living my life fully...

Elephants...not my favorite animals. :)

So you could ask - then why do you drag one around with you everyday? Yes, my own personal elephant is mobile. Comes with me everywhere. Kind of looks like the me I used to be - docile, silent, colorless, like a ghost. She whispers to me...make sure you smile, make sure you shine, make sure you've made sure of everything, explored every possible consequence before you make a move, make sure you don't hurt any feelings, make sure you hold back a little so you don't get hurt, make sure that you're the first to walk away...

I hate that damn elephant. And all of the others that live in my apartment, that invade my life. In desperate need of an exorcism - somebody call a priest....

Love you guys -
Asha

Grateful...

The last two days have been somewhat stressful and deeply emotional for me. It is never easy to look at your past, to listen to it speak to you, to know without a doubt that there can be no future in it, especially not like this...

I almost had a damn emotional relapse because of it...but I have some wonderful people in my life. Who build me up instead of bringing me down. Who listen and don't judge. Who love the person I am too much to allow me to return to the shell of me I was. And when I needed them, for the past two days, every single one has come through for me.

One such beautiful person advised me to write down everything I am grateful for in my life. He told me that it would be great for my energy, and I know it would be great to have as a reminder, as I feel that my dark days have not yet ended.

I am grateful to be alive, as my life is a moving, changing, breathing thing. It is wonderful and every day I am blessed to wake up to it. My words when I first wake up and when I finally go to sleep are always "Thank you".

I am grateful that I did not give up on dreaming. There were times when, as a coping mechanism, I lived in my dreams, because it would always be exactly as I wanted there, full of love, interesting people, and I would be in control of my path. It is because of this that my waking life is so full right now. I decided that there is truth in my dreams, and that there is no reason why some of it should stay there - especially when so much is possible in my real life.

I am grateful for the women in my life. I thought for a while that I was all alone - then realized that I was isolating myself. These women took it upon themselves to pull me out of the prison I was making for myself, to show me love - the tough kind, the real kind. To push me out of my comfort zone, stand me in front of the mirror, and say "see? what's not to love about this? do you know how beautiful you are? what beauty you can bring to the world? what life has in store for you?" These women saved my life - literally.

I am grateful for the men in my life. No boys allowed in this club - only men. My father was the first person I told about my divorce, and I was so scared at the time I wanted to throw up. But if ever a man could gather his daughter into his arms via phone - he did that. For me. And I will love him forever for that. My brothers have been there. My guy friends have shown me that it is possible to respect, love, and cherish a woman, especially one like me. And when I waver - they hold me steady, and when I need them, they've proven their shoulders are strong enough.

I am grateful to both my counselor and my teacher. They have encouraged and nurtured my independence and inquiring nature. So that now I can go out by myself and have an amazing time, learning something new or reclaiming something old about myself. They helped me find the "blues in my left thigh" :).

I am grateful to my dog. Sounds funny, but late at night, when it was too late to call anyone and vent, she sat on my chest, head on her paws, and was so still I was sure she was listening. No matter how spacey I've been, how late her breakfast is, or whether there has been an extreme lack of cookies - she always has a smile and a kiss for me. And she attempts to give hugs...but her arms are a bit too short...

Now that I'm listing this, I find that I could probably go on forever. :) And that is a beautiful thing.

For now, though, I have the urge to go out and embrace the day.

I love you and if I haven't told you so - thank you.

Yours,
Asha

Possessed...

I think it was inevitable in this "new" life of mine that I would wake up one day a different person. Every decision I have made or had to accept has changed the dynamic of who I am. I've taken to thinking of it as having been painted in watercolor, soft, muted shades that look as if they have been bleached by the sun... and suddenly, becoming vividly alive, a Crayola explosion, shaped and formed in bold beautiful oils...

There are times when I question who that woman is, strutting down the steps of her apartment, sashaying up the grocery aisle, making eyes at the bag boy... I feel like I have "Trouble" stamped on my forehead. Some men are scared off by it (too much woman for them)... and others...

I remember watching a movie where the main character, formerly so very docile and boring (I think she was a librarian or something), woke up one morning possessed by the spirit of a love goddess... Truthfully, it was a pretty stupid movie. :) But for years I've remembered how she took off her glasses and shook out her hair and it was like BAM! Always wanted to do that to somebody. Just stop them in their tracks...

It was a bit scary to wake up feeling like a different person. I know its a combination of all the healing I've done, the leaps I've made, the risks I've taken. But I was scared that I would lose the essence of who I've been, the parts of me that I like the most...

Because even when I was unhappy with myself, I was proud of the woman I was. I'm a great friend, a great listener, and I won't judge you for anything. I'm only going to give advice when asked, if you need to vent at 3am I'm there, and I occasionally will bring cookies. I don't give fake hugs, if you need a safe space I can be that for you, and my love - it knows no bounds, no ends. I am capable of forgiveness, I can gauge the energy of a situation and act accordingly, and I still believe in romance.

I am not ashamed of anything I have done these past few months. Reaching out, being honest, living with open eyes and heart, accepting that there are fabulous people in my life and being so grateful to know them.

The woman I am is the woman I was in my mind for years. She loves people, loves to be in the midst of it all, she is spiritually awake and sexually aware. She believes in music and loves to laugh - finding it so much easier to laugh with a free heart.

This morning I had the pleasure of hearing from several people. All of whom hold a place in my current life - even the one who hurt me the most. But therein is proof of the constancy of my heart... he knows it, I know it, the universe knows it. Because we were friends first, and will always be friends... and I am so very happy about that.

The man who currently holds my heart is far away...on the road, doing his super-hero thing. And in my heart is the understanding that it may take years for us to come back to the middle, where we can be together, after I've grown some more, changed some more, when there is less fear. But it is solid. So it can wait patiently...

I am happy with the woman I am. Her confidence is not false. She draws strength from the universe and puts it into her smile. I sometimes catch her in the mirror and just grin (hello gorgeous). I can accept that there is beauty in me, and there are those who can see it...and those who can't. And I feel sorry for those people... because I fucking rock. :)

I wrote a poem when I was in high school, newly awakened to my own feminine powers, feeling like energy was coming into my body, up through my toes, shooting from the ends of my hair. I took the opportunity to read it when I was getting rid of some mementos from my past, and it was like hearing a song - my song.

I remember that the girl I was and the woman I am are not so very different. Like I have come full circle, back to myself, back to when I revelled in the magic of myself. Makes me want to toss my glasses and shake my hair out, watch my eyes light up and my lips curve, throw my head back and laugh....

Woman. Possessed.

-Asha

Woman Enough...

All day long I've been waiting...and waiting...and waiting...

Because when you put yourself out there, damn near naked, vulnerable and shit, you have to understand that, sometimes wires get crossed, sometimes the "signs" you are sure were there, were really just figments of an over-active imagination fed too many romance novels....

Sometimes you just want so much to be loved, to hear the love, feel the love, that you try and force the love... and you can't force love, anymore than you can snap your fingers to change the weather. :)

Not that I'm doubting what I feel mind you. Just trying to rein in the control freak in me, my ginormous ego that tells me I am the captain of my ship, and that it is through my own will that I can realize my dreams...

I had to remind myself not to be an anchor...to be the compass instead. Love is completely capable of driving itself, I don't need to play passenger-seat driver...

Plus, the waiting game isn't so bad. Okay, that's bullshit - I hate waiting with a passion. There's a part of me that thinks that if there is a line to get into heaven, I just might go the hell route - I hear there's no waiting :).

I have some wonderful girlfriends who sometimes need to remind me to not try to control my path... cause its leading me right where I need to go, and I will get there, wherever, whatever "there" is, exactly when I'm meant to.

So...maybe I was wrong to push. Maybe it was not the time or the place. I have no idea because, as of yet, no discussion has occurred. But if I was, wrong in any way, shape, or form, I can cop to that. No beating around the bush.

My bad. I'm woman enough to apologize...

(But I'm not gonna take it back :) ).

Always,
Asha

Ready...or Not

I have a multi-track mind. Things are always popping in and out of it, scenarios, perfect things I should have said, missed opportunities, regrets...and other happier things of course.

This past week has been about facing my demons - because its time for me to let them go, even if I'm not sure I'm ready to. My life is moving forward and will continue to do so, so no use dragging my feet, trying to delay the inevitable.

I keep thinking about my "Last Constant Heart" post, what I was feeling then as opposed to what I am feeling now. I woke up Wednesday morning extremely aware that, not only was I alive and kicking, but my heart was singing. Sure signs that I am much stronger, much more sure than I was then. There is someone in particular I have to thank for that, but as strong as I feel, as much as I feel, something is telling me that now is not the time...

Fuck it. Time that is. And hurt feelings and being the good girl and being told to take my time, to be careful, to be cautious. There is so much I want to do, I want to say, I want to tell the whole damn world... but I wonder how fair it is to say it here, on this blog, when I haven't had the cojones to say it in person.

My heart and my eyes are wide open. To all possibilities. And there are so many damn possibilities. Of how the conversation will go. Of the outcome. Will it be the way I dream it is, or will it burn up the carefully laid foundation that is still so very fragile?

I know that I tend to jump headlong into the fire before checking to make sure my underwear are fireproof :). And I kinda feel like this is that moment when you're a kid and you are trying to jump into double-dutch. Somebody's already there, jumping along at their own pace, doing their own thing, and really, you're not much more than an intrusion...but if you can time it just right, fall into their rhythm, and not step on the bloody rope - it could be fun. Amazing, exhilarating...

I told you that I have miracle days. When every time my phone rings, its someone I love on the other end. And that those words, love words, have power, even when its whispered, screamed, written...sent via text message.

You know who I'm talking to - I know you read my blog. And you scare me half-to-death. Your number pops up on my caller-id and I start hyperventilating. My palms sweat. My heart beats so loud I can hear it in my ears (it's him! it's him!). Guess I really can't hold water to save my life... :)

I still have the text. I have all the texts, from that very first one (except the one you made me promise to erase). When you told me I was special. That I was a great woman. When we spent all night asking three random questions of each other. When you asked if I needed anything and told me that you would always have my back...and on March 2nd. When you told me...and I wasn't ready to hear it. Having had it thrown back in my face so many damn times. Having heard the words from someone else, knowing that he was a liar, a cheat, and not worthy...

But I think you are. I didn't believe that I could come so far in such a small amount of time. But you, my heart, you are like a fever, like fire. And I'm jumping into it with both feet, not checking to see if my underwear are flame-proof. Because I know you love me D. You love me with every word, every look, every touch...

And I'm in love with you...ready or not.

A Little T & A

Every once in a while I forget to be all poignant and reflective. Sometimes I just do things for the frivolity of it - thus this blog.

The idea came about today as I was getting ready to go meet new friends. Hopped out of the shower, did the "scent" thing, added the underwear and went into my office to pick out something festive to wear. The closet in my office has those cheesy mirror sliding doors which I hate - they never stay on the track - but today...today I love them.

I've had a lifetime of a love-hate relationship with my body, heavy on the hate - lite on the love. There was always something I wanted to change "before I __________". When I was younger, the "before I ______" was an age. I wanted to be such-and-such weight before I reached whatever age. My mother was always on a diet, always trying something new, looking for some kind of miracle cure for extra-round middles and jiggly thighs.

Part of the reason I waited "so long" to have sex was because I worried about what my boyfriend would see when the clothes came off... Of course, I learned later that when a 17 year-old girl takes her clothes off in front of a 17 year-old boy, he is immediately struck blind, deaf, and dumb, barely coherent, just blissfully grateful. :) Even then though, I wasn't satisfied with how I looked, comparing myself to other fabulous females with the means for personal trainers, personal chefs, plastic surgery, and airbrushing.

That was, of course, 10 years ago. Now, at this crossroads in my life, comes the fear that, somebody else is going to see me naked. Shit.

My body has gone through the traumas of my life. Pregnancy, depression, an eating disorder I don't talk about. Crash diets, fat-burning pills, extreme work-out sessions. Somewhere I got it into my head that all the problems of my life could be solved if I just got to such-and-such weight.

I used to have a recurring dream. Actually, my dreams are more like mini-movies I can manipulate. I write most of the lines, cast the co-stars, that kind of thing. Whenever I was unhappiest, I would retreat into dreams, because there...everybody loved me. So, my recurring dream...my favorite co-star was Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson. Sweet Lord, that man makes me want to praise Jesus that I was born a woman. :) Anyway, I would dream that I was on a late night run to Publix and I met him there, and somehow we embarked upon a friendship that ended up as more...getting off topic. Sorry. The point was that, during one of my dreams I was crying on his shoulder about how very ugly I felt all of the time, that it was because of my weight, my lack of figure, my jiggly thighs that made my husband fall out of love with me. And then he said something like "You're beautiful. Any man who spent 10 minutes with you would know it. The only thing is that you wear your sadness on the outside - but that is not all there is to you..."

Not sure if I got the point of that then, but now, especially tonight, it makes sense to me. It's true that, for years I wore my sadness on the outside. Dark circles under my eyes, watery smiles, hiding behind dark colors that magazine guaranteed would make me look thinner. And, dammit, I was hungry a lot.

When I walked in front of those mirror doors today in my underwear, I was a bit shocked. I know I don't weigh what my doctor thinks I should. I know I have "fall-off-the-wagon" days with my diet. I know that when a man calls me "Thickness" the name still applies.

But it was my face.

I was smiling - grinning really. I did a little twirl in front of the mirror, admiring my ample top and bottom, the tummy that's a bit firmer, the legs that are - well, pretty damn great. The calves, the arms, all of it. I may still be a work in progress, but with a smile on my face, for no reason other than because I didn't feel sad, I felt like myself, my true self.

So there's my story - amazing what a little T & A can do for a girl's ego :).

Praying...

In the last couple of months, I've had several people take it upon themselves to suggest I pray to God for strength, guidance, for answers and understanding. Reminded me of the last time I stopped speaking to God, what I was going through, how difficult it was for me to understand exactly why those things had happened to me, what lesson I was supposed to have learned.

One of the most annoying and frustrating things to hear when you are in a state of distress and trauma is that "things happen for a reason." Annoying because that really isn't a comforting thing to say to someone in need of comfort. Frustrating because its usually true.

I remember being 15, feeling like a zeppo - someone who is a useless waste of space - wondering why it was that, while boys did seem to like me, none of them had the balls to do anything about it. I finally had a heart-to-heart with God. Kind of a "look, okay I get it, I'm supposed to be independent for the rest of my life, own my farm, raise my kids, and basically be a nun. Alright - that's fine for later. But right now? It's New Year's Eve and I wouldn't mind having someone to kiss at midnight...but I can accept that that isn't going to happen. Alright...well, thanks anyway." Because, just like every 15 year-old, you think that the course of your life is set at that age, that anything important to your story will happen right then. I was resigning myself to lonely, and God said "Honey please. Don't even try to think you know the plan - you have no idea."

At 15 I was sent exactly what I needed - after I had put my fate into God's hands. After I stopped trying to control everything in my life. It's funny that way, how it happened. Three years later when I was in that hospital room, looking out a window, wondering how much it would hurt if I just jumped, cause really, how could God care about me when he'd taken my son?, how I started looking at the ring on my finger, and thinking about the boy who had put it there...and I walked away from the window. Accepting that I didn't understand, couldn't begin to understand the path I was on, or how to walk it. But I did stop talking to God. It hurt too much to remember how very hard I prayed, watching the doctors and nurses work fruitlessly, to know that, after everything, there would be no son to teach to walk, to sing to, to kiss goodnight...

I couldn't sing at all for a long time after that. Not in the shower, not along with the radio. Music just left me. I felt like a hollow shell of myself. And I went on like that...until I remembered that the biggest tragedy of my life had not happened to me alone. And that's when I started praying again, asking for forgiveness for my neglect, asking for guidance and strength.

Since then, my praying has been different - especially recently. I tell my family that I am a "heathen", as my ideas on religion and spirituality are no where near conventional. Sometimes my prayers don't have any words - they are just feelings of gratitude. Sometimes they are tears. Sometimes they are love songs sung in the shower. Sometimes I dance my prayers and other times I paint them. Filling in the gaps that simple words leave...

Last night I met a woman who was looking to define prayer in its secular form. We had a fairly long conversation about it, but in the end, I found that I had expanded my own definition of what it meant to pray.

To pray is to love. Seems short, but it means a lot to me. Everytime we wish, we cross our fingers for luck, we kiss a child's forehead, we reach out to hold someone's hand for comfort, we embrace someone who has long been from our life - it is a type of prayer, a thank you to God that our loved one is safe, that the world is going the way it should, a request for a blessing, a sending of energy into someone who needs it more than we do. Sometimes it is accepting that, while God may not physically put in an appearance, we, as vessels, can be stand-ins.

That's kind of a bold statement. Which is okay, I like making bold statements. I know that even in my darkest moments I am blessed, protected, and loved. That if I get hit by a bus tomorrow (knock on wood - another prayer-type thing), I would have fulfilled what I needed to in my life. If I am blessed to live to a ripe old age, I will have that many more chances to make a difference for someone else, to be that vessel.

My prayers are extra short now - direct, to the point, and I say them constantly. When I open my eyes in the morning, when my phone rings and it is someone I love, when I wrap my arms around another, when I meet a beautifully-souled person, when I am hit with the beauty in the world, when I know, without a doubt, that my heart is pointed in the right direction...

Two words....

Thank you.