PASSAGE....

2:14 am...

2011-10-23T23:14:00.000-07:00

...because that's what you look at first.

I am awake, and it's 2:15 now. I have succumbed to the night and surrendered to the fact that tomorrow morning is not going to feel very cool.

So I'm up. Easy, peasy. I can say with pride that I have, successfully, stayed awake at one point in my life for over 72 hours. Thank you, Griff, for the challenge. I think I would have done you proud. Not much can touch me now that I have been to that side and back.

Side note** The suggested labels for this post are "scooters, vacation, and fall." I love scooters. Makes me think of Shawn and Steve. Two crazy gents with a lot of impact on my life. I can say that both taught me how to enjoy the little things. Something about scooters, too. What exactly is the appeal, I still am not sure, but the visual image is enough to entertain on a moment's notice.

Vacation - I dream. Of pristine beaches, crystal clear water, Bob Marley playing in the background. Pure untouched goodness, lazy days, endless sun. When will this be my reality? Soon. I plan on it. I've tripped a couple times, and I know it's just a mirage, but it's a damn attractive one and I'm ready to just go there. Solo. Me myself and I.

Fall - easily becoming, year by year, my all-time favorite season. As much as I love every little piece and part of the "fall experience", I am in a bit of a pickle. This chick can't let herself enjoy squat.

So forget the dreams of beaches, bonfires, and pumpkin carvings...life today consists of introspection and stuck. Why do I choose the madness?

Damn. I know I know better. It's 2:29am, and I am somewhat enjoying the drama of it all. Let me stay in this "funk" because funky is more interesting than haaa-aappy.

Don't worry, Cutesy Buttons. Tonight, dying's not on the menu.

2010-11-17T10:59:00.000-08:00

Reiterating...

Last time I blogged I think I was smoking something. Nag Champa. Today, I'm not.

I'm a dance teacher and freelance choreographer and I'm an aspiring writer and part-time psychologist/social worker...unofficially. My three million and two kids come to me with their stuff and it's an honor to be in that place. Even when they cry. Or I cry. I love my job, most days.

I've got an obsession with Calvin and Hobbes and philosophy. My car is almost a reduced pile of aluminum. I should turn it into a time machine. Go back to my high school dance and tell myself not to wear a red bra with a black dress.

This morning I got up and played 6 rounds of Zombies Ate My Brains. I already won the game, but I think I was just aiming to buy a blue watermelon. Don't ask me why. The logic is kind of lost with me too.

Today I just wanted to write to get the ball rolling again. What I've really got to do is send out some work-related items and clean the french fries out of the bottom of my Time Machine, but it's totally worth the ten minutes to blog and get a voice back on the waves.

the Boo made fun of me last night for saying "whatevs." I found that ironic because he uses cool (stupid) abbreviations for things that no one know about...like "the Falls" and "the Pub"...mostly I have to ask him for clarification, and then he reminds me of the Fonz and I laugh. Yesterday he asked me if my jewelry box had a monkey in it. Often I don't understand the train of thought present there, but it always gets me to lighten up. It balances my conspiracy theories and moments when I feel like I'm really one of those zombies in my game.

Dear God, I'm SO glad we don't have an XBOX. Thank you for your great mercy. I think if we did I would slowly disintegrate into a million little pieces of ash, right there in front of our TV on the living room floor. Or my eyes would burn out of their sockets. Or worse, I would start to eat, sleep, and breathe flying pieces of corn and butter, shooting peas, and angry birds. Harry Potter has that effect on me too.

Ever get so immersed in something that you literally feel like you're really living inside of it? Yeah, yeah. Here here. Time to disengage from the movie, and step back to see clearly.

My focus is all crocus. - Homestarruner

the REAL dude - MLK, Jr.

2009-05-25T08:47:00.000-07:00

Today is Memorial Day, a United States federal holiday formerly known as Decoration Day. It commemorates U.S. men and women who died while in the military service. Personally, I think it would be cool if it were still called Decoration Day. I'd take full advantage of the semantics of "decoration", and take a major field trip day to the homes of two of my besties: Jo-Ann's and Michael's. I would swallow my inevitable trepedation which arises whenever I'm within 100 yards of either places. I'd walk head-on into the crafty madness, and bravely dedicate my day to Decoration. For the war heroes, of course. Foam balls, yarn, glitter glue, fabric paint, boas, baskets, frames, cardboard, hot glue, you name it, I'm on it. Let's celebrate the day in style...and nothing says style like an airbrushed t-shirt with rhinestone trim.

The real reason for my post is not to discuss Memorial Day. I think it's an awesome holiday mainly because we get a Monday off smack dab in the beginning of summer, and pools open everywhere...but that's where the glory ends.

What I really want to take time to observe today is Martin Luther King, Jr. I was looking at, of all things, my trash-pick-up schedule yesterday, and I noticed something interesting. We have two or three major, *major* holidays....Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. Those are given days where you know folks are taking the word "holiday" to heart. In addition to these work respites, we get Labor Day and Memorial Day...conveniently positioned on our calendar to mark the beginning and end of pool season (which, by the way, is extremely intelligent and practical use of two Holiday-mondays. Someone was really thinking here.)

The ONLY other major holiday where trash is not collected (the true mark of an *important* holiday) is Martin Luther King Day. Now, when I noticed this, I had to look twice. Martin Luther King? Really? Now come on...all of our major holidays serve to commemorate people like Jesus and the pilgrims...who is the MLK guy that he's ranked up there with Christ and the founders of our country?

So I did some research. Found nothing life-changing, only noticed that MLK Day has been a huge source of controversy in the political realm for quite some time, and wasn't nationally observed at all until about 1986.

I'm not complaining, of course. I'll take any excuse for a Monday off. I just find it interesting - and perhaps most interesting of all is the role Mr. John McCain has played in first opposing, and later working to promote this holiday as one of national observance. Sounds a little wishy-washy to me. Makes me feel a little better about my vote this past November.

I'm just waiting for the day Oprah gets her own Monday. She is arguably more influential - with fabulous shoes, yet.

if I close my eyes, it's all the same.

2009-05-22T09:31:00.000-07:00

When I am talking to somebody there are always two conversations going on. The first is on the surface; it is small talk about music or TV or work or whatever it is our mouths are saying. The other is beneath the surface, on the level of the heart, and my heart is either communicating that I like the person I am talking to or I don't. In my life, I want both conversations to be true. That is, I am supposed to speak truth in love. If both conversations are not true, God is not involved in the exchange between myself and someone else, we are on our own, and on our own, we will lead people astray. I have learned if you talk to people with your mouth, and your heart does not love them, you are like a person standing there smashing two cymbals together. You are only annoying everyone around you.

I sense things are different with me. I'm happy. I think if you live your life with a lot of negative tension flipping around in your gut, all you do is have judgementalism and pride and loathing of other people. Set free from this state, you are free to love. You don't have to discipline anybody, judge anybody, and you can treat everybody as if they are your best friend...as though they are rock stars or famous poets, and though they are amazing. To me, people are amazing. I love that it's not my responsibility to change somebody. My part is just to communicate love and approval.

It is always the simple things that change our lives. Those things never happen when you are looking for them to happen. Life will reveal answers at the pace life wishes to do so. You feel like running, but life is on a stroll...this is just the way it works.

Like I said in a previous post, we view so many relationships as commodities. What metaphors do we use in relationships? We valuepeople. We investin people. Relationships can be bankrupt. People are priceless.

We use people like money. If somebody is doing something for us, offering us something, be it gifts, time, popularity, or what have you, we feel they have value, we feel they are worth something to us, and, perhaps, we feel they are priceless. With love, we withhold affirmation from the people who do not agree with us, but we lavishly finance the ones that do.

Love doesn't work like money. It's not a commodity. When we barter with it, we lose.

What I'm coming to learn is that true inner strength doesn't come from giving love, it comes from receiving it just as much. Love will never change us if we don't accept it.

Stay tuned for something a little lighter. I kind of feel like souffle-ing my blog today, but I just went balls out a triple-layer cheesecake. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Tomorrow is National Super Hero Day. Celebrate accordingly.

2009-05-14T06:29:00.000-07:00

This video gets to me every time I watch it, doesn't matter how many times. Freaking fantastic hot mess of a dance. And the crux of the meaning is pretty simple.

To be in a burning room is to be in an emergency situation that calls for immediate evacuation. That is the nature of this couple's relationship...one that's more than just bad - actually going down in flames. To me - she's numb. In an emotional state that is dead after being disappointed over and over and over again. He's a bit of a manipulator/instigator. There's definitely some nice co-dependency happening too. If they were wolverines, these two would probably be gnawing each other's legs off.

It sucks to feel dead, I think. I know what it's like. I don't ever recommend it. If you can, it's better to choose the nice lively alternative - the one that includes flutes playing and trombones and flowers and garlands of fresh herbs. Possibly a talented family band.

I was discussing this yesterday with a girlfriend over coffee. Why do we get stuck spinning our wheels in unhealthy relationships? What is it that keeps us hanging on to something so clearly toxic? This couple is clearly not all together with it. Maybe they both got tragically mishandled as babies and dropped too many times. Maybe it's the Agent Orange. I don't know.... I think though, that if a room were on fire, you would do everything in your power to get the hell out and save you life. MAYBE, if it's on your path out the door you might grab the family photo album because you know you could get left with jack after all the cinders die down. Even the cat gets left behind sometimes. Point is, if someone cries "FIRE!!", you bail. You bail fast. The very very last thing you would do in this kind of situation would be to walk over to the record player, drop down a nice Sinatra and slow dance.

I guess I understand why. Clues in the song lyrics: "I was the one you always dreamed of/You were the one I tried to draw...you're the only light I ever saw" Obviously there's deep attachment in any of these situations. Clearly some affection. And I guess there's something to be said about really hoping things were different, or rather, being in enough denial that you could do down with the fire and never have known better. And that's a little tragic too.

Nothing changes at the end. He's still clinging on, she's still a zombie. I'd sure like to give one of them the gift of goodbye.

Writer's Block

2009-05-12T09:34:00.000-07:00

In honor of National Limerick Day...

I tried to come up with a ditty
That was clever and clean and still witty.
But my failure was utter,
Guess my mind's in the gutter -
Every one I came up with was shitty.

EVOLVE

2009-04-12T08:32:00.000-07:00

I walk in stride with people
much taller than me
and partly it's the boots but
mostly it's my chi
and I'm becoming transfixed
with nature and my part in it
which I believe just signifies
I'm finally waking up

so I walk like I'm on a mission
cuz that's the way I groove
I got more and more to do
I got less and less to prove
it took me too long to realize
that I don't take good pictures
cuz I have the kind of beauty
that moves

This place is like a sexy preschool.

2009-04-11T15:29:00.001-07:00

Just got back from mom's, where I was helping out for the big Easter tomorrow. "Helping out" is *code* for a bit of good soul satisfying conversation, a little bit of watching her cook, filling up salt shakers, mooching out of her fridge, and letting her spoil my pooch -- which she seems to think she has co-ownership of. She can't wait to be a grandmother....good thing my sister-in-law is due today, and is really going to pop at any moment. I'm excited for even more new blood in the family. Change is always good, for change's sake.

Had one of those "oh-crap-I'm-getting-asked-out" moments today, which thankfully turned out to be nothing more than getting asked where the best ballroom dance place is in town. Put me in an unfamiliar place for a good 8 minutes. The guy makes my coffee, and although I love random awkward moments, I don't love them 5 days a week's worth. Why is it the hardest thing in the world to say to someone something honest like, "I'm sorry, my coffee addiction is more important to me right now than getting to know you better." I had some other good ones thought up, a couple of which were at least %15 truthful. Awful? Maybe. I had obviously made a false assumption about his intentions though - imagine that - and the conversation sailed by without a hitch. See, assumptions are silly. My girlfriend was with me and thought the same thing I did....so the notion wasn't entirely made up by me. Good to know if that had been the case, and I had choked, she was right there for me with her own escape plan.

This is part of the joys of being actually vulnerable to getting asked out...you don't have that safety net "I have a significant other" go-to excuse. Not a bad thing - I enjoy both being in a couple, and the very different sort of sense of autonomy that comes from being in the place I am now. Love it all. And at this point, knowing better than to not to let any grass grow under my feet is needed. It's time to move forward. It's simply change, which to me is the most natural and necessary thing in the world.

Can't wait to throw myself back into work next week. Spring break has been a much needed chance to renew, re-energize, and reevaluate. Looking forward to family time tomorrow, too...giant throngs of babies and all. Will most likely spend most of the day either teaching my cousin's bright little 6-yr. old daughter Taylor new tunes on the piano, trying not to step on one of 7 or more toddlers all under the age of 2, or listening to my cousins all talk about parenting techniques, and the latest *fascinating* things their kids did.

Full moon tonight, and it's absolutely stunning. A good reminder of part of the message of this weekend...putting others' needs before your own. I don't really get the analogy I just made between the moon and selflessness, but hey. It was a reminder to me. Jesus, the man of flesh, walked towards his own death in faith and love. He died in the place he did, and to him, such a state of pain and agony was nothing more than a mosquito bite in the grand scheme of the place he knew he was going to.

Regardless of whether you take this fable literally or figuratively, the basis of the lesson is the same...it's still dying to self. To forgive, and forgive, and forgive, and forgive, and forgive, and forgive, even in the face of such unimaginable injustice and ignorance.

Back to the regualar scheduled program.....Tommy Boy :-)

Freak on a Leash

2009-04-07T11:32:00.000-07:00

She's my wiry-haired Houdini. I joke that my dog is magic, but part of me really believes it's true.

She's figured out how to open up my cupboard doors. The unusual part about this is that these doors don't really have a logical way for a dog to get in. I don't really know how she does it. But without fail, every night I get home from work and she's emptied my bottom cupboard off all its plastic-wear, napkins, and random mustard packets. I don't understand the appeal to a dog of accomplishing this task, but I guess if I were her I'd get pretty bored and want to play with plastic knives, too.

She's also a little like Waldo, from the book series. I was looking back at some old pictures from a party I threw with a friend, and she somehow managed to get into almost every single shot. Again, no clue how.

I've never heard her growl. She hasn't once gotten mean or aggressive with other animals. She acts like she thinks she's the size of a walrus and will approach a dog no matter how big and want to play.

In the dog park, she has a die-hard ritual for socializing. She'll spend the first half-hour hanging around the perimeter by herself, content to sniff around the fences, away from the mix of male dogs in the middle who are all competing to be AlphaDog. Then all of a sudden, for no apparent reason, she'll unexpectedly start running - and she runs fast. This usually catches the attention of every dog in the Alpha group, and she knows it. Within a minute they're all chasing her. She is fast enough to run away from all of them if she wanted to, but she manages to stay just close enough to keep them following her. Then suddenly she stops and rolls over on her back and lets them sniff her up and down. Once this is done, she jumps up and starts running again. Giant. Tease.

She's afraid of PetSmart, which to me seems like the Disney World for dogs. She's also afraid of my basement, and it's the only place in this world she doesn't follow me to.

She's locked my keys inside my car. Twice. Once when the car was running.

She plays fetch like a retriever. Fun little fact I discovered one day. This makes no sense also because she's of terrier descent.

Her name kind of frightens me - like if I ever really spell it out, I'll jinx myself and have something horrible happen to me within 7 days.

I take no credit for any part of her demeanor. Truly, she's a daily mystery to me.

Wouldn't be surprised if she lives forever.

Probably because I can relate... - November 2007

2009-04-06T10:34:00.001-07:00

Found this one from the archives, thought it was worth a reprise.

Yesterday one of my girls did something adorably clueless - particularly refreshing after a pretty tense rehearsal.

Dr.T and I are sitting together discussing rehearsal after everyone left. She stayed behind and is walking around, looking at the floor, clearly searching for something.

Dr.T: Are you OK?

Girl: (Shrugs) I lost my phone!

Dr.T: Where did you put it last?

Girl: I put it in my boobs when we were dancing. Now it's gone!

(At this point I take a look at her outfit: She's wearing a short jacket over a tight tank top. Glancing at her tank top, I notice a clean outline of a phone-sized rectangle right on her chest region)

I'm silent for a minute, amazed.

Girl: I just can't find it anywhere! (Still searching around).

I finally spoke up and said "Sweetie, check your boobs. It's still there". She was only half-listening because she was so worked up about losing the phone. I repeated it a couple times in variation: "Look down your shirt. It's right there", and "Your phone is STILL IN YOUR BOOBS".

When this finally sunk in, she looked down at her chest, patted around a little bit and broke out in a big grin when she found it.

Dr. T: (to me) You must look at girls chests a lot more than me - I'm amazed, I didn't see that at all.

**Note: The first statement he made is false. The second I agree with. I, too, am amazed that between me, a straight male, and the girl actually WEARING the shirt, I was the only one that noticed the phone wedged between her breasts.**

Last Word:
Dr.T (to her): Tara found your phone. I didn't. Make that clear.

Did you know that assumptions are considered the lowest form of knowledge?

2009-04-05T13:16:00.000-07:00

So I try not to. I do try.

I think assumption making is not only foolish, but a form of emotional suicide.

And yet we continue to go about life, reacting off of everything we make believe to be true.

Got a question? Ask it.
Want something? Go for it.
Afraid of someone? Please. That's only being afraid of yourself.

In the past month or so, my dreams have been following a trend. Anyone that knows me knows that I can fall asleep anywhere. Sitting up, out in public, in a car, in a noisy room, doesn't matter. I have never had trouble sleeping - staying awake is another story. Anyways, every night I dream about the day I had before - same events, same people, but a little more dramatized and crazy. I wonder why, but I think I have an idea. I'm not a dramatic person, and my days are pretty tame. But that doesn't mean that I don't need a little "oomph" now and again.

I've recently payed an overdue visit to my favorite little comedian, Calvin, and he puts it best.

"Why isn't my life like a situation comedy? Why don't I have a bunch of friends with nothing better to do but drop by and instigate wacky adventures? Why aren't my conversations peppered with spontaneous witticisms? Why don't my friends demonstrate heartfelt concern for my well being when I have problems? ...I gotta get my life some writers."

I accept maturity as a form of chilling out. We gain tools as we get older to quash the inner toddler in us who wants to throw a tantrum when his cookie breaks in two. But it doesn't make the feelings just go away.

My cookie broke. Good thing I didn't assume it was indestructible.

Dying to Self

2008-11-27T10:17:00.000-08:00

When you are neglected, forgotten or set aside on purpose and you have no hurt or anger about it; when you forgive others and refuse to consider your feeling or emotion, but instead choose to remain happy...

When the things you do with the best intentions are spoken of or taken wrongly, when your advice is disregarded and your opinions ridiculed, when your ideas are shot down and you refuse anger and unforgiveness in your heart or conversation, when you don't even try to defend yourself but take it all silently, patiently...

When you face disorder, irregularity, tardiness, and all other annoyances yet react with love an patience...

When you stand face to face with waste, foolishness, extravagance and spiritual insensibility and you endure...

When you are content in any society, comfortable in any company, content with any food, climate, clothing and interruption in your plans or life...

When you never care to refer to yourself in conversations, or desire praise for the things you do, or record the good words you say or want to be commended but would rather be unknown and unseen...

When you see another prospering and getting ahead, and are genuinely happy, rejoicing with him without envy or questioning God, especially when your own needs are far greater and your circumstances desperate...

When you are corrected, reproved or criticized and you accept these with no rebellion or resentment rising up in you; when you feel no hurt or anger and don't even defend yourself or your actions, but remain silent and walk in love...

When the things you want and desire most must be set aside to help or further another and you feel no hurt or disappointment...

When important or necessary things you had planned to do or accomplish must be laid aside to help someone else in need, when your own plans must wait because someone else needs help, encouragement or love and you do it without complaining...

When the things you are called to do seem beneath your station in life, and you do them with no thought of yourself, but with joy and love...

When someone deliberately embarasses or humiliates you in the presence of others and you forgive them immediately with no thought of revenge or retaliation, but rather overlook the situation saying nothing in return...

that is dying to self. He must increase, but "I" must decrease.

Slow dancing in a burning room

2008-11-24T20:22:00.000-08:00

This is not the ghost of a past experience, it's the makings of a new one. I've felt all day something rising up from my chest, into my throat, the beginnings of panic, the chill of fear. The deep recognition of yet another crossroads.

I've been here before. I recognize that very candy dish there. I've seen this very stairway here, and I know the basement it leads down to. You laugh at me like I'm just a child...I may be young and naive, but I know what I feel, and what I feel is a deep and forboding familiarity. I don't know how I know, only that I know.

I can't find my breath to inhale. I drift along in a haze of half-acceptance. God gives clarity that is fuzzy and unclear. The sky wept today, wept for every Un-Hollywood there ever was.

I don't know anything, although I pretend to know a lot. All the knowledge and desire in the world will not save the ship determined to sink. Right now both of my hands are in the hair - don't shoot. Kick me when I'm down, paint any picture of me that you like...I only hope that at the end of this road, I see a smile in this reflection that says, "This is the good stuff. These are the times we'll look back on and go, 'Yeah.'"

Sweet freedom

2008-11-18T09:06:00.000-08:00

Today marks the day I went debt-free for the first time in over ten years. A mere five minutes ago I made my final online student loan payment. Part of me wants this to feel somewhat more monumental than it does right now. I've been working up to this for so long. Maybe at one time, while in the midst of my sad tragic days of bad credit and poverty, I imagined this day to be filled with balloons and streamers and definitely champagne and loud cheering, and me looking around waving like Queen Elizabeth saying thank you, thank you.

The reality of it is that I'm sitting in my living room, still sweaty from teaching class this morning because I was too lazy to change clothes when I got home. It's quiet and the gas fireplace is providing heat from behind my funny fake logs. It feels like any other normal afternoon. No cheering, just a few nice stomach gurgles. This feels mildly victorious, but in a subdued, responsible kind of way.

I'm contemplating what to concentrate on next financially, now that I'm no longer climbing uphill. I promised myself that once I paid off all of my debt, I would buy a new car. I love that idea, except that kind of new investment would plunge me right back into the hole of debt I just came out of. I want to ride this wave of freedom for awhile - after all, it's got a nice smile and I kind of like the way it makes me feel.

On Saturday I experienced a small victory in court. I'm suing someone and I go to official hearing in January. I can't wait to make a story about this whole charade. It's been a hoot so far, that much is certain. Every judge I've ever stood before has been a very menacing-looking female. They so impress me - how they cut through all the BS and get straight to the point. Watching them work I get excited, and begin to imagine myself in my own black robe, getting ticked off at people and putting them in their place like a mother hen keeps her chicks in check. I'd level misogynists with authority complexes, simply by stabbing a pointed glare from over my spectacles and down from my 10-foot tall high throne. Yes, I'm a little jealous of the judge.

Witnessing the scene on Saturday was better than seeing a Broadway show. I, of course, had absolutely no idea what was going on, which only added to the humor of the whole ordeal It also proves my incapacity for working in the field of law. All I know is that the man who has given me such grief, who has been patronizing and nasty and demeaning and just plain rude to me, stood in front of my Superwoman judge and lost all his power in a short 2-minute meeting.

So yes - judges - I'm a big fan. Mainly because I know I'm pretty naive and judges are not. I don't stand up for myself often enough, and judges demand that you do. The good news is, I'm starting to feel a greater sense of entitlement - at least enough that I don't get taken advantage of anymore.

Whatever happens come January is in God's hands. I was fortunate enough to witness a special kind of power in what took place this last weekend - the power of a judge's razor-sharp discernment. Even the court clerk sniffed out the man's BS, and she called him out on it in front of a waiting room full of very entertained people. I was grateful, but also felt kind of foolish because I just had sat through an uncomfortable mediation with him for a good half hour and completely overlooked the one major point I had in my favor. Thank God for the Clerk of Courts!

I'm inspired to start working on all this. All in all, I couldn't have asked for more from my first court experience...except maybe popcorn.

Excerpt - from BLUE LIKE JAZZ

2008-11-13T11:47:00.000-08:00

What great gravity is this that drew my soul toward yours? What great force, that though I went falsely, went kicking, went disguising myself to earn your love, also disguised, to earn your keeping, your resting, your staying, your will fleshed into mine, rasped by a slowly revealed truth, the barter of my soul, the soul that I fear, the soul that I loathe, the soul that: if you will love, I will love. I will redeem you, if you will redeem me? Is this our purpose, you and I to pacify each other, to lead each other to the lie that we are good, that we are noble, that we need not redemption, save the one that you and I invented of our own clay?

I am not scared of you, my love, I am scared of me.

I went looking, I wrote out a list, I drew an image, I bled a poem of you. You were clever, but I was smarter, perhaps the only one smarter, the only one able to lead you. You see, love, I did not love you, I loved me. And you were only a tool that I used to fix myself, to fool myself, to redeem myself. And though I have taught you to lay your hand in mine, I walk alone, for I cannot talk to you, lest you talk it back to me, lest I believe that I am not worthy, not deserving, not redeemed.

I want desperately for you to be my friend. But you are not my friend; you have slid up warmly to the man I wanted to be, the man I pretended to be, and I was your Jesus and, you were mine. Should I show you who I am, we may crumble. I am not scared of you, my love, I am scared of me.

I want to be known and loved anyway. Can you do this? I trust by your easy breathing that you are human like me, that you are fallen like me, that you are lonely, like me. My love, do I know you? What is this great gravity that pulls us so painfully toward each other? Why do we not connect? Will we be forever fleshing this out? And how will we with words, narrow words, come into the knowing of each other? Is this God's way of meriting grace, of teaching us the labyrinth of His love for us, teaching us, in degrees, that which He is sacrificing to join ourselves to Him? Or better yet, has He formed our being so fractional so that we might conclude one great hope, plodding and sighing and breathing into one another in such a great push that we might break through into the known and being loved, only to cave into a greater perdition and fall down at His throne still begging for our acceptance? Begging for our completion?

We were fools to believe that we could redeem each other.

Were I some sleeping Adam, to wake and find you resting at my rib, to share these things that God has done, to walk you through the garden, to counsel your timid steps, your bewildered eye, your heart so slow to love, so careful to love, so sheepish that I stepped up my aim and became a man. Is this what God intended? That though He made you from my rib, it is you who is making me, humbling me, destroying me, and in so revealing Him.

Will we be in ashes before we are one?

What great gravity is this that drew my heart toward yours? What great force collapsed my orbit, my lonesome state? What is this that wants in me the want in you? Don't we go at each other with yielded eyes, with cumbered hands and feet, with clunky tongues? This deed is unattainable! We cannot know each other!

I am quitting this thing, but not what you think. I am not going away.

I will give you this, my love, and I will not barter or bargain any longer. I will love you, as sure as He loved me. I will discover what I can discover and though you remain a mystery, save God's own knowledge, what I disclose of you I will keep in the warmest chamber of my heart, the very chamber where God has stowed Himself in me. And I will do this to my death, and to death it may bring me.

I will love you like God, because of God, mighted by the power of God. I will stop expecting your love, demanding your love, trading for your love, gaming for your love. I will simply love. I am giving myself to you, and tomorrow I will do it again. I suppose the clock itself will wear thin its time before I am ended at this altar of dying and dying again.

God risked himself on me. I will risk myself on you. And together, we will learn to love, and perhaps then, and only then, understand this gravity that drew Him, unto us.

Thanks Adam!

2008-10-18T18:11:00.000-07:00

I will do my best to honor my new position as Poster Child for the wonderful site that is called trepenationdrill.com. Right now that responsibility just means I'm going to keeping paying attention to your inspired words . And maybe comment, if motivated. Please let me know what more can be done. I'm here for you, Hermano. :-)

Forgive the Author for getting loopy with her scribblings tonight. (Bah! Using the word "scribblings" when referring to an online blog just makes me shake my head) I'm currently sitting in a haze of leftover party time amazing amazement, 2 hours of sleep, 6 hours choreographing for 58 middle schoolers, a solid 8 hours of driving while fighting to stay awake, and yet another speed warning/cop scare. (I abhor cops with a passion unparalleled...and it never fails. Same place, same flashing lights, EVERY time. Bucyrus or Bust! ) This girl is eleven all new flavors of exhausted. Minus buttered popcorn flavor, of course.

I kind-of, sort-of, remember why I have boundaries and a set routine and nice things like that now when it comes to my career. I hardly ever plan ridiculous and crazy escapades the the one I just outlined to you anymore. Doing a full day's work in Ft. Wayne beginning at 9am after a night of having a really really good time is something I did regularly when I was, like, 25. OMG.

Read: No more of this nonsense. I'm done overbooking. I joke about it, but it's an area of my life that is in serious need of new assessment. I feel more than a little spent right now, and not in a comfortable or fulfilling kind of way. More like a compromising and weakening kind of way. I'm not complaining...I made more than enough compensation today to make my trip worthwhile and even necessary, and then some....but...today it was mostly about the paycheck. I only recognize this because after spending time with so many of my favorite people last night -- if I had my way-- I would want to spend the morning after sleeping into the afternoon, getting up to delicious comfort food, and lazing around all day with friends with nothing to think about.

It's also important to note that not one of my friends were available to hang out today anyways, even if I had been. Maybe this means we're all grown up to the point that we just don't get to do stuff like that anymore. Or, maybe it means we're ALL over-extended and we just need to go escape and spend 6 weeks backpacking, camping, beaching, skiing, to Remote Destinations Untouched by Man. And etc and etc and etc. Maybe that would help us to slow down the the breakneck pace of our lives as we know them to be now.

OR I KNOW!!!!! WE SHOULD GO SKYDIVING!!!! Perfect. Done.

My ultimate, for-real goal: To have Friday night, all day Saturday and all day Sunday with no work-related responsibilities. I know, I know...how traditional and banal. But also normal, restorative, and needed.

OK anyways. On to business. I've got a lot to catch up on! Inspired by Adam's weekly round-up, which was in turn inspired by his friend --whose name escapes me -- I will do the same format.

My Week, in a Peek:

1.) I saw a man hanging off a bridge on Wednesday night. This the first and last event from this week that am going to mention. I feel really strange about the whole thing.

LA LA Land does us the favor of creating dramatic and exciting TV shows and movies that commonly show someone on the brink of some major crisis. They take it to the extreme and sensationalze it. I've seen more than enough scenes involving high rises, window ledges, and "DON'T JUMP!!!!!"'s to satisfy me in a lifetime.

There is once or twice in your real life in which you hear about someone who actually took the plunge, in a very unsensational way. The last time I had an experience with Suicides and High Altitudes was two years ago on Thanksgiving...he was a boy I used to teach. He didn't survive. I heard about it from a second-hand source. It was an emotional, messy, dramatic thing. I felt the severe impact of it, even being 6 states removed from it.

And, this most recent experience I had was just odd...not quite as drama filled as you would expect...more like the following.

Tara:"Oh, look Tara. There's a guy hanging off that bridge."
Tara: Huh.

Actual Recap: I was driving home Wednesday from a wonderful night of teaching...my normal nightly routine. I was preoccupied, thinking about my awesome kids and in a very positive mood. Suddenly:: Traffic Jam.

Like any other human being who pays attention, I tried to see what the source of all the hold-up was. The presence of four cop cars in one place was no new thing to see...the odd part was that the officers were all outside their cars, looking up.

So, duh. I look up too. And what do I behold but a man hanging off the wrong side of the chain-link fence on a bridge that runs over I-76.

Drumroll...the ending? I had to keep on driving, right on pass. And that's the end.

I know, I know. So disappointing..I feel the same way. It was just a really quick, short-lived moment in time I don't think will ever be erased from my memory. I don't know what happened to the guy, and probably will never find out if he jumped and lived, jumpd and died, or if my good old buddies the Coppers were able to do a good deed and coax him down. The only thing I know is that it's no accident that he ended up on the wrong side of the fence. That guy was on a mission. And all I was able to do was drive by, and wonder about the who/what/where/when/, and most importantly, why.

I felt like the way my brother did when we watched the end of "You've Got Mail." You don't SEE a final wedding scene, or days of wedded bliss, or day-to-day euphoria of being with your Numero Uno Person and in a general place of being, you know, IN LOVE...you are only given an indication of a hope for it. Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan literally get into an elevator holding hands and looking at each other with discovery and recognition. Happy Child in tow. The elevator door closes. You expect the cliched joyous wedding scene to follow immediately...but you suddenly get the CAST LIST. I agree with Todd...it kind of leaves you hanging. Just a bit.

All else aside, I really hope the dude on the bridge is at least in a better place, wherever he may be at this moment. I am grateful for the healthy jolt of perspective he gave me, sans the happy ending. He may just have been an angel.

Beyond our means.

2008-10-11T20:49:00.000-07:00

I listen to NPR. In so many descriptions I've heard, it's "smart people radio".

Hm.

From what I've observed all week long, all time and energy is spent focusing on our financial crisis, and on the presidential candidates. Within the past two days, both subjects have gotten a bit nastier.

I don't like putting more energy in a negative area. It only helps fuel the fire, no matter how sincere our intentions are, the more time we spend focusing on a "crisis", the more the crisis will continue. Mother Teresa probably said it best... "I will never attend an anti-war rally. If there is a pro-peace rally, sign me up."

I'd prefer to think in terms of abundance and wealth. I see no reason not to.

And on matters financial, I ran into a doozy of a little thing tonight. After checking my bank statement, I noticed an odd purchase for something like $696. 50 towards a WEBMIRAGE. It had a toll free number, so I gave it a call.

Turns out someone with my credit card information just enjoyed a Cirque Du Soleil show tonight in the Sin City at my expense.

It's being handled, and certainly not a concern on my part anymore, but I just have to laugh. We are told day in and day out by those geniuses on National Public Radio that we should not spend beyond our means...."Don't spend more than you make". OK. I won't.

I'll spend more than someone else makes. Isn't that the American Way?

Six odd facts about the author

2008-10-05T08:57:00.000-07:00

1.) Was once bit by a dolphin. Still has scar on thumb after 20 years.

2.) Reads magazines backwards

3.) Thinking about playing Trivial Pursuit creates physical illness. Has a great fear of the game.

4.) Third toe on right foot is a nub.

5. ) Used to be a synchronized swimming coach.

6.) Never grew wisdom teeth.

"I want you to write about God" - February 2007

2008-10-05T08:55:00.000-07:00

Dum Dum Duuuuuuummmmmmm.....

My views on God? Why, yes.

I believe in a higher power. Life is too simple to think otherwise. Life is also too complicated to think that we're wise enough.

Life has a certain sort of synchronicity to it when our focus lies on higher ground. I can sit and lay out my plans and goals and feel really really (I mean really) in control of my place in the grand scheme. The next day, my car has mysteriously decided to "leave" the place it was parked the night before, my place of employment no longer has a place for me, someone walks in off the street and decides my apartment needs to be a condo, and boom. I'm in Akron.

Suddenly, things that used to make so much sense are now disenchanting. Down is Up. I didn't make it this way. Thank the Big Guy. (or Big Thing, or...just Big. Whatever.)

Life changes in the blink of an eye. I could lose my leg tomorrow and be forced to choose a new profession. But the most interesting thing is that it seems God has already mapped me out a different path - one that at the moment, is infinitely more thrilling.

It's human nature to live in a state of wonder and awe. There have been millions and millions of things in life to provide us with endless amazement and of course, that blissful sense of insignificance.

My dear friend put it best..."my life became more content the moment I realized that I'm OK with being insignificant."

God is significant, and God is in each of us, all the time. God is love. Our bodies, our souls, our path in life will eventually be forgotten. Two billion years from now, no one will remember what seems so important today. We may try daily to recreate our moments of drama and ego-generated nonsense, but time tells the truth.

You ask me to write about God, and I answer -- it's all about God.

Even the waste at the airport.

Hitting Home - February 2007

2008-10-05T08:54:00.002-07:00

So, it's time to write.

Dialogue from my luncheon this morning with Mom:

Mom: So how's work?

munch...munch...munch

Me: (pause) Same. Busy.

munch...

Mom: Get any feedback from last weekend?

munch...munch...munch...munch...munchmunch

Me: Yeah. It was all pretty good.

(pregnant pause)

Mom: Where are you going tomorrow?

Me: Mississippi.

munch...munch...munch

Mom: oh, wow.

***So, I'd go on with this thrilling montage, but I think I'd die of excitement shortly if I did.

Today has been a gem in itself. In addition to beginning what I know will be a thrilling spread of entertaining, dynamic, and touching *blogs by me*, I sleep tonight knowing that tomorrow will be another wonderful day in the AIRPORT.

Waste not, want not. And yes, I finally have little travel-size bottles! Forget the water, my friends. This girl has gotten travel-savvy.

So, my latest challenge is finding balance between being a human being and being a director. All logic tells me that a director/coach has no feelings- treats students like machinery, with no regard to human emotion.

Get me in front of a group that I care about and I find it impossible to make excuses for my kids. I make an excuse for one, I have to make it for the other 30. Not fair.

I have empathy and compassion for my kids - on a big level. I also know that no matter what I'm experiencing on a personal level- and I experience alot- my kids will never see it affect my performance in rehearsal. I expect alot, sure. But I never demand something if I'm not able to set the example myself.

Never practice - always play.

Interesting event today - Mr. G. going nuts up in the balcony....Shawn, is that really how you count to 18?

Airports and Waste, Part III - December 2006

2008-10-05T08:52:00.000-07:00

They took my toothpaste today. It's a 4.5 oz bottle with probably 2 oz used, so technically there was only about 2oz of toothpaste in there...but since the container was over the 3oz limit....gone. I held my peace on that one. Not like I'm going to argue with them.

They took my lipgloss, took a plastic baggie, sealed up my lipgloss and gave it back to me. One more plastic bag. I bet ZIPLOC is doing some fantastic business lately.

I saw three people ahead of me in line toss out bottles of water. I followed suit. I've already expressed my feelings about this.

When I think about the thousands of airports around the country repeating this behavior times a million....here's where my mind goes:

We had one isolated incidence of someone carrying liquid explosives, and now life is about checking bags and wasting unfathomable amounts of consumer products. News flash: Lightening does not strike the same place twice. The next person who is going to try and blow up a plane is NOT going to do it with liquids, unless they are a total idiot.

The argument is age old. But no, folks, I am not "just grateful to be flying safely". So don't ask me.

Thank you for smoking - November 2006

2008-10-05T08:50:00.000-07:00

I am not a smoker. Never in my life have I taken more than one puff of a cigarette. It's usually when I'm out with friends and one of them gets bold enough to shove the cigarette INTO my mouth without my consent. At which point I suck it up (pardon the pun) and take one for the team. It's happened maybe four times in my life.

However, every once in a while, as I'm walking through a room, or some other unexpected moment, I will sniff up the most delicious waft of cigarette smoke (fresh, of course) and my whole being becomes awashed in this glorious feeling that I can only describe as "home".

Is that not the weirdest thing? Actually it makes total sense to me. Although I think smoking is a filthy, nasty habit and it grosses me out completely, I will never judge a smoker. My dad has been a chain smoker for as long as I can remember. My childhood has been ingrained with memories of Marbolos and dangling ashes. Admittedly, one of my favorite memories is of driving in a smoky smelling burgundy station wagon, my dad smoking, tapping his middle finger on the dashboard to some old country tune. I hate the smell of smoke on me. But I still get that feeling every once in awhile when I take in a good fresh noseful of the stuff - it's euphoria, and knowing that it comes from the second hand smoke to me is the most interesting part.

And I guess in some twisted illogical way, I'm a nicotine addict. Who'd have thought?

More airports and waste - November 2006

2008-10-05T08:49:00.000-07:00

Mood: Sore

Is sore a mood? I picked it. It fits.

O'Hare. 13 hours. Murphy followed me around eeeeverywhere today.

Airports and Waste - 2006

2008-10-05T08:47:00.000-07:00

I'm only going to take this opportunity to vent my frustrations about airport security because I'm in an airport wasting time. I spend enough time travelling that I've run the gamut of airport gaffs, and this one takes it.

This whole liquid security thing is really ridiculous. I appreciate getting on a safe plane, of course, but please. So far I've had several items confiscated...a $35 tube of eyeliner (ouch)....a can of tuna. And the thing that set me off today was having a perfectly good half-full bottle of water taken from me and thrown in the trash.

I know - of all the things to get worked up over, it was the water. But I just remember on other occasions when I stashed a $50 bottle of liquid vitamins and some other expensive products in the lining of my suitcase because I was too late to check my bag and I just couldn't bring myself to waste so much money...and got away with it.

Now expensive toiletries and liquid supplements aren't a necessity of life, but water is. Seeing the $2.50 bottle I paid for get thrown away was just really disappointing. And now I fly parched.