What's Goin' On

Monday afternoon: in the dentist chair for an hour having two fillings done - Drill, Baby, Drill. Ugh.

But there was a pleasant surprise later that evening: my daughter, Supergirl Two, age 19, and I had an IM chat where she thanked her dad and me for raising her with enough freedom to allow us to find ourselves but always managing to keep us safe. Blew me away.

One traumatic, life-changing event we were unable to prevent and I still find fault with myself as a parent over it: my older daughter, Supergirl One, was raped when she was sixteen, while on a date with a boyfriend. This triggered the bipolar disorder which, while far from dormant, perhaps would not have erupted with a vigor that landed her in a succession of psychiatric wards over the course of two years.

Despite all of that, I was able to breathe a giant sigh of relief in hearing from my daughter that she was okay with the way we'd raised her.

Tuesday morning: caught my hand in the ancient garage door that must have been designed long ago by the Marqi de Sade. Excruciating pain. Ice. Off to work. Very glum all day with the pain and not too happy regarding some of the things I had to deal with at work.

This morning was a real roller-coaster of emotions for me which, of course, I had to keep under wraps all morning until the kiddos went home; which today was early. Thanks for small miracles.
The afternoon went much better. I am currently engaged in a strong attempt to get to know and understand a co-worker who has posed tremendous challenges for me for two years. When we talked this afternoon, I felt a wall had come down between us and it felt quite good - to both of us, I think. There are other barriers to try to overcome but I'm encouraged.

Like a lot of us out there, I've hit an all-time low over what's happening with the campaign. I've been alternately angry and depressed and today, while listening to John McCain on the radio, I engaged in a loud, angry outburst in my car, which didn't help the headache I've been fighting off all week. What the fuck are we going to do?

I'm sure you've figured out the upshot: I've had a really crappy week so far. But this evening, I felt turned around a bit. How I can tell is that I have begun to smile over that compliment from my daughter, instead of continuing to blame myself for not keeping them safe enough. And I now have an incentive to proceed with my goal of trying to reconcile my differences with my co-worker in a way that is comfortable for both of us.

Hope. Sometimes it takes me days to find it. At one time it took me years.

A Song Trilogy

1) Song for Sharon - Joni Mitchell
2) All The Best - John Prine
3) Off-White Dress - Bill Morrisey

A trio of songs about loneliness, lost love and marriage the second time around.

There are currently three engagements in my immediate family: W.P.'s daughter's, my older daughter's and mine.

I dreamed last night of a veil that never ended...

Forgive me for my self-indulgence but certain songs, like poems and art, help me to work my thoughts out about things. I hope you enjoy a song or two.

If you'd like to skip a song, drag the orange bar all the way to the end and the next song will start. And hell, if you want to skip it all together, I will not be offended! :-)

Love,
Pagan

What's Goin' On

I really miss reading all of your blogs consistently, as I've more or less been able to do for months now. But it's been busy.

As you know, the wonderful trip to NYC, from which we returned Friday night, exhausted. And yesterday, we helped W.P.'s daughter throw an engagement party. Everything went great. I was in rare form, as I usually eschew shindigs, and had a great time. It was great that a family that has been dear to both W.P.'s and my family for years, were able to make it. There were many new people to meet and I was able to overcome my shyness and ask if I could take their photos. I've discovered that having a camera helps to break the ice.

Yes, I'm shy but I do a pretty good job of faking it. In yesterday's case, I wasn't faking. A testament, I believe, to how much a part of my "new" family I'm feeling. I have so much. Knowing this is a real help when I start to bitch and moan about this or the other insignificant thing. My family, a few but very loving friends, good health and though we're not exactly prospering, enough to live comfortably, have fun and not feel like over-consumptive American gluttons.

This coming week, both W.P. and I have a lot of loose ends to tie up before we pack it up and take off to Nova Scotia for a couple of weeks. To this vacation, we are immensely looking forward. When W.P.'s wife A was alive, they took many family vacations there and he has been looking forward to taking me there. W.P. always knows the best, out-of-the-way spots and things to do and he's a wonderful travel companion. We're hoping (optimistically) to leave Thursday but I think it will probably be more like Friday.

I hope to be able to read as many blogs as time allows before I leave. I haven't decided yet if I want to take a computer. I'm inclined not to at this point.

Meanwhile, make love not war and all that good stuff.

Sunday

(photo taken by me at The Bridge of Flowers, Shelburne Falls, Massachusetts)

Hello dearest blog friends,

As some of you know, my mother's been visiting. She left on Friday for my brother's house and will be arriving home to Midsize Village, Portugal (about 50 miles northwest of Lisbon) on Monday.

The telling of Supergirl One's life and future went relatively well. Both granddaughter and grandmother endured the experience well, - all things considered. I'm really pleased and proud of both Supergirl One and my mother. That was a lot of emotion to take on in such a short period of time. Phew. I'm glad it's over.

This past weekend, The Girls, their dad and I went to the Green River Music and Balloon Festival. It was, I believe, the hottest and most humid day of the year in these parts. In that regard, it was brutal but the thunderstorms that ringed us all evening held off and the final act, Lucinda Williams and her band Buick 6, went off without a hitch. We had a great day.

I, my friends, will be taking off for a much-needed mini-vacation with W.P. He is scheduled to be in New York City as part of a project he's working on there and I'll be going along to take advantage of the benefits of the free hotel room, which is walking distance from MoMA. That should keep me busy for at least one day. I'm sure I won't have any trouble finding things to do.

While in New York, I have a lot of research to do about obtaining an advanced degree in special education. I've been thinking about it for some time and based on a conversation I had with a co-worker, I began to think about it some more. Recently I went over to FranIAm's site and saw this inspiring post (but then again, all of Fran's posts are inspiring to me). So, I think I may be taking the plunge and returning to school. It's interesting that even simply investigating the possibility of a graduate degree makes me break out in hives and yet, contemplating my marriage to W.P. hasn't caused me any concern whatsoever.

I'll have to begin to try to overcome my anxiety over returning to school for the first time since, what...1983? Yikes.

Meanwhile, I will be blogging from New York starting probably on Tuesday. Off to read your weekend blogging now!

Take care. Be well. Peace. Love.

Pagan

Wednesday at 7:00 pm EST

I posted this at The Peace Tree last week. I'm not sure if I'll be able to see the show this week but anyone else does, please let me know what you think of it.

Peace,
Pagan

IN THEIR BOOTS is a compelling new magazine show about the dramatic impact the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are having on us - the people here at home. The show will feature our Iraq and Afghanistan service men and women, and their families, in stories that have universal appeal.

Funded by a grant from the Iraq Afghanistan Deployment Impact fund (IADIF) and produced by Brave New Foundation, IN THEIR BOOTS will be streamed exclusively online.

In Their Boots will be hosted by Jan Bender, a veteran of the war in Iraq who served as a rifleman/combat correspondent in Iraq with 3rd Battalion, 1st Marines from 2004 to 2005.

Every week a live episode will be built around a dramatic and emotional IN THEIR BOOTS "Real Story," a non-fiction narrative about how our service people, their families, and their communities have been profoundly changed by the nation's campaigns in Iraq and Afghanistan. Then, in a live forum, Jan Bender, our host, will interview the participants and lead a discussion that includes experts, service-providers and individual viewers in an interactive discussion of the issues raised.

Pathways, Bridges & Walls

I've just finished reading a recent post at what is perhaps my favorite blog: Sexuality In The Arts. Its title is deceptive in the sense of what it implies about the blog. It's a lot about the arts, yes. But it's also about loving, living and how personal expression can have an impact on lives - privately, socially, politically and spiritually.

Perhaps because of the path I'm currently traveling, One More Option, the author of Sexuality In The Arts, has become a sort of teacher. As is typical, OMO's post is about a lot of things but what I've taken away from it most is this, the ending paragraph:

I’m not a big fan of traditional boundaries. When life has given me boundaries, I’ve often responded by building sustainable archways, gates, bridges and tunnels - anything that might help people avoid being confined.

Whether it be physical, political or spiritual confinement, I can think of nothing more hellish. I find it especially sad when people impose confinement and isolation upon themselves and resist those who, in good faith, attempt to offer another path. Perhaps that path is not where they think they want to go. And granted, there are paths of various lengths, that lead to many places; not all of them acceptable to all of us.

My feeling is that we can walk down a path that is not for us, perhaps by the hand of someone else and still hold tight to who we are and what we believe. If that path is not leading to a place we like, or the view is not what we want to see along the way, we can always come back to where we started or take another path that leads back to where we want to be. To me that doesn't necessarily mean we have to unconditionally accept the path that is not for us. What it means is that we walked it and that we attempted to do so in another's shoes. It could very well mean that the path was not for us but it does give us another perspective. Perhaps even some common ground with the person who invited us to walk.

What I hold as an ideal for myself is not always how I manage to behave. I try. I try so hard. Mostly I fail, as I consider myself much more of a student than a teacher or sage. When I see how very far I have to go, I feel infantile. It does not stop me from attempting those few first steps. When I read something like the post by OMO, I feel a sense of wanting to try even harder. That is why I look up to her so much.

Paths not walked, when we are invited to do so, are a type of confinement. I choose to walk the paths I'm invited to walk upon. There are bridges, many bridges, that I want so badly to cross and have no idea how. I want to learn how. Everywhere I turn there are walls. We can either curl up and accept our confinement or we can paint a picture, write a poem or compose a song. Others then can see what we have to say. If we're lucky, we can be invited to tear down the wall - together - when we can see what each of us have to say and where it may lead us.

One More Option: thank you for being my teacher.
Yours in Peace,
Pagan Sphinx