Monday, August 22, 2011

Hair & Skin & Bones & Teeth

"What is the best reason to love someone, do you think?"

I pose the question and then let his words talk over me. I am off to my own races. I think of the construct of him that lives in my mind. This person, this Boyfriend, with whom I pass the time and have conversation and laugh and eat and drink. I think of the title, his role and the way we fit it -- and what that means and where we have to go. I shiver.

I think of my Friends. We girls get together on Thursdays. We belay each other, push each other, compliment each other and razz each other. Then we break bread and drink wine. We lift each other up and we let each other down. We show up and are present; we put other things first and cancel. We ebb and flow in the construct of Friend. As our lives get busy, we drift and then reconnect -- or just keep drifting.

His profile in my peripheral vision brings me back to my bed. I look at him. I see his crinkly hair, his tan forehead, weathered cheeks, the narrow bone of his nose, and his teeth flashing between the lips as they move. "You see them. You see them and know how they've been formed by the love they've been given. You see how they're going to give and receive love. You accept everything about them. You see them."

The construct fades and I am seeing him. I see hair and skin and bones and teeth. I feel a rush of humanity. I realize that I want to see this way always. I want to lose the construct and the attachment to it. I want to see hair and skin and bones and teeth.

Tuesday, August 02, 2011

Stop Signs

All stop signs should have eight sides and be painted red. But, alas, some do not wear the correct attire. Don't be sucked in!

In romantic relationships...

He says "I love you" within the first few weeks and wants you to move in at four months. How can you trust this man's judgment? Answer: You can't! Do not be tempted by the oft-repeated claims of love and I've-never-felt-like-this-befores.

If he rips apart the woman he was married to for 20 years, and describes past girlfriends in overly-critical terms, he's gonna be bad for you. Once the infatuation and lure of sex wears off, he's gonna see that you too have flaws. Let the critiques begin. Blech.

When biking...

If the metal, paint, or wooden bridge you are crossing is wet, slow down! A metal plate on the bike trail just wrecked my three year no-accident record. And I failed to get out of my clips before I hit the pavement. There I was on the concrete looking around to see who was going to see me lying there with only my dignity lower than that bottom pavement-kissing hip. Fortunately, most people don't bike in the rain. Huh, wonder why. I wrenched myself free of the pedals with no witnesses to mark my grace.

Think I can extract myself from situation #1 with a trace of grace?