thoughts from the past

I just found this post in my drafts folder. I think it is from December 2010, ish. Interesting to look back on these thoughts now. I am just now realizing that the thing that I used to look back on to say to myself "I got through that, I can get through anything." does not feel as significant. I think that a year from now, I'll look at these current few months of my life and say "I got through that, I can get through anything." And then, sure as rain, I'm certain life will bring more challenge, more difficulty, more pain, more hardship. There's no way to avoid suffering and misery. So what to do?

Dec 2010:

Sometimes I lose track of myself. This has been happening often, actually. Perhaps it's a part of grieving. I think I'm out of the throes of the deepest grief, I seem to have some momentum in my life, and I think in response to this my mind went the direction of thinking that things would smooth out now, that I would know what to do, where to go, that I'd have direction. Not so. How could I expect to be on my feet, sure of myself and my relationships just 2 months after such a change? I miss the solidity, the unquestionableness of where I stood with her, with others. That's gone now, and I'm left adrift without an anchor. Perhaps that's why I've been daydreaming of getting a tattoo of an anchor. I'd like to find something to attach myself to. Something solid. Sometimes I pick a person to be my anchor. This doesn't work out so well. People don't stay put, don't do what you want them to. That's for the best; I wouldn't want a relationship or another person to be my solid ground. Sometimes she ended up being that for me, which wasn't the best. But overall we figured it out when that happened and adjusted. We were good at navigation, at adjustments. I liked that about us. We were even good at adjustments through the end, through the final stage of navigation. Now we're struggling a bit when we see each other, not quite knowing how to relate.

I miss knowing where I stood in the world relationally. True, there were parts of that world that didn't accept my place in it and my relationship in it. But I knew where I stood, who I was with, what I was doing. Now I feel all over the place, helpless, lost. Eventually through my actions and my choices, something else will become my solid ground, the thing that I lean on at the end of the day, count on when the going gets tough. I can let that anchor emerge naturally without making a conscious choice. Or I can put effort into directing myself to a certain anchor. I'd like to think the latter is a better idea. However, I have seen lots of people religiously, dogmatically, fervently try to anchor themselves on what is "right" or "good" or whatever and it sometimes ends up causing the world a lot of pain, and them a lot of stress. Even "love" as my solid ground feels scary. I'm wary of using that word so casually. Love is hard, it's annoying, it's work, it breaks you down, it shatters your dreams, it lays waste of the self, it requires strength and a sense of strong peaceful solitude, security in your individuality. Love isn't something I'm ready to say that I can obtain or mark as my anchor, as my True North. However, I believe that it was love that has led me through these past 2 months, that has allowed me to let go and be open to whatever adventure life brings me next. I suppose there are 2 sides of love here; love which I generate and have control over offering and then love which exists outside of me, whether or not I acknowledge it, is powerful being my imagination, and is out of my control. Ultimately, it's my goal to seek to want to center my life on that greater Love. But honestly, I'm spending lots of effort being scared and protecting myself from that kind of surrender and loss of control.

give out

it's an ongoing conversation
figuring this all out

just want to give it all
to all
and have a bit leftover
the leftovers don't sustain forever
preserve a bit more next time, self
again and again that pure joy
comes from sweet music
and a bit of sun

rain's gonna return
get out the jacket
and the protection once more
but stay a little while
small voice of contentment
of serenity
i am listening to you speak softly
and following your lead

a situation

perhaps i am just one of those people
who continually finds themselves
in situations

(every time you see me, my friend, i have an "update"
a new thing to report about them or her or whatever)

what does that mean?
by virtue of being human, we exist constantly in a situation
it's called being alive, yes?
i am not a special person.

conflicted, feeling, holding back.

getting "no" or "not yet" so much these days
makes me perhaps act out irresponsibly in other ways?

so i do things like shave a tiny bit out of my eyebrow
wear a key i found on a ride around my neck
i have no reasons for these things

but i feel they hold meaning regardless
and someday perhaps i will hike a mountain
the path to the top will show me how
the green moss covers all
and time passes over the slumbering world
even when i stay watchful
too watchful
the bold moon shines on
even when i stay bottled
too bottled
the ocean gushes forth

cycle is stuck. stopped in my tracks, i am.
come on, dear blood.

wind, rain, battering the windows
post-midnight rattles of the kerri-mind.
snowstuck and ready for the acceleration of summer.
last winter, my new job got me through
2 winters ago, it was learning to cook
this winter, it's my bike and music

friendly love is all?

arbitrary passage, or hello Y2K12

another day
another year
passing with the hours
slowly when i need speed
quickly when i need slow

what if this turnstile of a day
could bring me newness?
what if i learned to love myself
rather than beating my head against every wall i can find?

seeking the complex
the yellow lights
the not quite complete friendships
i tend to hurt myself or others
but mostly both

never learned to keep my hands to myself
playing by the rules isn't fun
but serenity is what i seek now
and something about my space
strewn with my laundry
tells me that it's here
it's here, in my own life
that i'll find the serenity i need

blah blah blah i am not an interesting person.
trying to remember that there are people in the world who know me VERY WELL. very very well. and care very much about me. so so so much.

where did they all go?
they might know i like french toast, not pancakes (but have recently been questioning that).
they might know that my favorite color is red.
they might know that when i throw a dramatic off-hand comment out about the past, that i need to be asked a question or listened to fully for a few minutes.
they might know that when i run around the block, it's either a BAD sign or a GOOD sign, but never insignificant.
they might know that all it takes is some small moment of humor/attention to get me to talk/out of my mood.
they might know that i always need to talk to get out of a mood. and it helps.
they might know that i write songs in 1-2 song sets, every 3 months or so (and therefore ask me what i wrote this month).
they might know that i want to talk to homeless people all day every day.
they might know that if i allow myself to melt a bit, sleep heals all...

...no idea what i'm saying. just that sometimes i forget those people are out there because i build these stupid walls in search of something a little more novel. perhaps it's time to go back back back to my oldest oldest companions....could use a good dose of deep past love.

too many new everythings these days. no more, please.

for what it's worth, welcome year number two thousand and twelve.

collapsing boundaries

i can see for miles and miles and miles and miles

seems as though i find myself tripping 

searching

not done yet with this young adult battle

struggle through your 20s

find who you are!

learn what you want!

get bruised and bumped along the way

coming up empty

after attempting to hold all the other hearts in the room

coming up empty

after attempting to close all the doors that open to pain

coming up empty

after attempting to sing it forth into the clear blue

the steady rise and fall of another day plods on

my bed remains at its faithful post

reminding me of my current duty

dress, eat, sleep, work, exist, grieve

what luscious tears i cry!

what dramatic typical beauty!

stopped by the night, by a thought, by nothing at all...

...i remember i like being untethered

i remember i like following my whimsy

taking the long way home

staying up late without someone pulling me in

i remember my other duty:

give, serve, help, forgive, surrender, submit

there's so much work to do. SO MUCH WORK. focus can shift, in moments of breaking bread with the street scavengers. focus shifts when i drop the mirror, pick up the plow...

where is the garden? time to go back.

and then i found something like contentment

seeing myself grasp for more more more
doing the desperation dance
the awkward thing where i pull you close
push you away
get in over my head with about 13 different oceans
all over the place
and loving it

i sit back, watching myself
chuckling at the lessons i seek to learn
the hard way
finding my way and losing it again
but surfacing with myself along the lost
roads i travel

my sister is here too
we don't travel alone
we both hit similar road blocks
make things harder for ourselves
it's the kline girl way
but we move forward
time marches on
and with each other, with our G-d
somehow there is a road of love
ever unwinding under our feet

small moments, here and there
coming to me out of evenings alone
laundry ignored
paintbrush brandished
a bright red flash across the canvas
a spray painted prayer
this is my temple
this is my contentment
this is my solstice

my evening

step 1 - bike home
step 2 - crumble with unexpected grief in the shower
step 3 - commence to indulge in an all-out ugly, desperate, cry session
step 4 - somehow get yourself warm and make dinner while listening to "everything's not lost" by coldplay
step 5 - clean up from dinner
step 6 - light all the candles in the house and turn out the lights
step 7 - write a song
step 8 - continue on...