Category: Random Musings

Everything was mellow. My conscience was satisfied with itself. Several days passed before I learned differently. My awakened self had a meeting apparently, in some dark alleyway with unconscious self, and the hidden, the undercurrent, the shadow won the tussle. It was quick and it was a silent battle, as I had no idea what they were up to. It is possible the two of those selves are practicing schizophrenics. If they had known I was visiting those fragments of my disordered mind my children would have rolled their eyes, and begged me not to say anything in public.

He was a compact man of medium height, with an air of undeniable “Bad Boy” toughness about him. He stepped into the room bearing an aura of male superiority, and authority. Odd because the situation didn’t call for an attitude, though one swirled around him, wafting heavy pheromones in steroidal waves. He had on the bad boy shirt too, proclaiming some smart-alec sexual taunt. He wasn’t a young man, but rather well seasoned, clad primarily in black; ebony shirt, obsidian boots that rose above a crisp manly heel, to a level several inches below his knees.

Lately I have been conjuring up my foremothers out of the deep cauldron of childhood memories. As I begin to think about passing along some Mother-full wisdom, possibly some grandmotherly advice, I realized how little I have stored in my memory’s safe-deposit-vault. Was I not paying attention? Had they not passed it along? Were my lessons, my examples, my modeling buried under the sludge of time past?

Red found me in the coffee shop midweek, after looking for me for a couple of days, days during which I was out of town. He had needed an introduction that I could easily make for him. The problem was, I was nowhere to be found, so he fretted, and he wandered around on a search. He is perhaps in his twenties, I suppose, or possibly 18, or 35, and had quickly become a regular at my favorite coffee shop after moving nearby two months ago. I had gone out of town, and had turned off the phone, enjoying the freedom that comes from cellular escape. It was Wednesday before we chanced to meet and he told me about his search.

The best gifts came without wrapping. It is for those, the rough jewels, that I am giving thanks, today

It looks like this. I meet people, here there and everywhere, and some of them stay to be a part of my life for a period of time; for a long time, or short, it doesn’t really matter, as they are my fellows, and we accompany each other along a journey. These are the gift-carriers, the three kings bringing unintended consequences that were both unearned and undeserved.

I lay in bed at night, thinking. I sleep when I am reading. I get drowsy when I work at my computer.

I wonder if I am wired backwards, somehow caught in a loop that runs in reverse. I sit for hours in front of my laptop screen, and then drive myself to exercise. I worry about my adult children, but never as much as when Iam with them, which is when my worry hits a zenith. I do not wonder if I am sane, so much as I wonder how far off the bubble I would measure, if tested. So far, no testing.

Across a year spanning 2010-2011, I developed a series of stories/essays which chronicled some of my experiences.

This was compiled into a self-published draft entitled: Leafcutting: ONE WOMAN’S JOURNEY THROUGH AN ORDINARY, EXTRAORDINARY YEAR. Excerpts of this book are included in articles here.