Some days you just know that the path you will travel will be rough. I woke up this morning with a lump in my throat with the anticipation of attending a memorial service for someone who’s soul I cared greatly for. It’s been quite some time since I said farewell to someone as they cross over to whatever lies beyond. I’m sad for the loss that his family and friends are experiencing. I’m thankful for the time I spent with him, for the capacity in which I got to know him. I’m grateful for the memories of him and the heart he shared with his family.
Mike, I may not have said this to you in person (and God knows I wanted to), but thank you for allowing me into your family. Thank you for opening your life to me, for making me laugh and smile when I sometimes felt out of place, for capturing moments shared with your family on your trusted point and shoot camera. The years of my life that included you were special to me and I hope that even though I never said it directly to you, you know that I loved you.
Today, I honor Mike. A very funny and sweet man. A proud father and grandfather. A loving husband. And one of the kindest souls I have ever met.
Celebrate we will. For life is short but sweet for certain.
I look up to her in ways I have probably never properly expressed.
I think she’s beautiful. Her smile, radiating.
For the same reasons I love her, I sometimes go to war with her.
For every ounce of frustration, I’m reminded of our shared life force that only a Tomlinson woman can understand.
She taught me how to negotiate my first job offer.
She drank jager on the eve of my college graduation even though it made her sick.
We share a story of life. The same parents. The same memories.
We see that story differently. Uniquely.
Life has given her to me, before me even existed.
Life has taken us on a journey only sisters can know.
Without her, I’m just some okay version of myself.
Without her I wouldn’t know how special it is to always have her.
I’m red. She’s brown. Every so many years we get the urge to capture our evolution as women and sisters as a gift to our parents. It’s a special tradition that has no particular cadence, always makes us a little uncomfortable since we both claim to not be photogenic, but it’s also one of my favorite things to look back on. Somehow over the last few decades we both became women, with very different lives, different zip codes, and different personal styles. However, what always remains true is that we do it because we are sisters and these moments on film will always be here.
Paris, November 2011. Dusk. Walking behind Notre Dame after a deliciously indulgent (and cheese filled) meal in the Latin District. I set my camera on a concrete post next to the lock bridge.
I’ll never forget this moment and can’t believe that this photo was a product of my “I have no idea what I’m doing”.
Yesterday my co-worker and I took a little mid-afternoon walk like we have done on many afternoons when we need a break from our checklist of never-ending items. It gives us a chance to talk about life outside of work, a chance to be the other women we are, not the career one, but the sister, partner, matriarch, and friend versions. Anyone who knows me knows I like to talk and one of my favorite topics is the most general of all, life. We have covered many topics under the general umbrella of life while on our walks and it’s these small gems that have made boring days interesting, but more importantly it’s what bridged our gap between coworker and friend. I can remember when I started this job and I wasn’t sure if we would get to know each other on such a personal level but the more time we spent gaggling the more I saw just how lovely, insightful, and special she is. So, as I started to look back on the year while we were discussing hopes for 2012, I took note of the fact that there was ONE thing that remained ever-present and consistent in a year that was anything but. It was her. It was those afternoon walks, the encouragement she gave me when I was feeling low, the hugs I would give her when she was fleeing tired, and the friendship that deepened along the way.
So, on this walk yesterday we were talking about, take a guess…LIFE. About 2011 and what it taught us. About 2012 and what we hope for it. About kids. Relationships. The concept that there isn’t ever a right time but we somehow always make it work. I made a comment about wanting some chips to fall into place in this next year because I felt like SO MUCH of 2011 was spent trying to just get myself sorted out that I didn’t have time to really make progress on the things I originally intended to. On our way back to the office she said, “You know, I think a lot of chips fell into place for both of us this year”, and you know what? She’s right. I’m not disappointed that 2011 wasn’t much of what I wanted it to be since it ended up being so much of what I needed it to be. Chips fell into place. Maybe not the places I was expecting them but as I’m siting here now with the Christmas tree as dry as a Leslie Nielson’s humor still lit, the fireplace “crackling”, a warm beverage crossing my lips, the presence of him filling my room and heart (more about ‘him’ later), as the last 32 hours of 2011 tick by I know I’m where I’m supposed to be. The chips fell into place.
A couple of years ago I started to assign a single word to each year. As the year started to conclude I would look back and try to find a single word that would sum it all up. I have a fascination with picking just ONE word for things. I guess I see it as a personal challenge. Because I am always talking talking talking it’s the antithesis of what comes naturally to me. One word to sum up 365 days of internal and external conversations. Sounds so easy in theory but when you talk as much as I do, and when women already speaks an average of 5,800,000 words a year not counting the internal abundance of over analyzing…well, you get it. The point is, I needed a word for 2011 and so I started the process by looking back on my words from the last couple years:
2008: Love
2009: Adventure
2010: Change
But 2011 was so complex. Far more complex than a year of love and certainly more complex than a year of adventure. I knew I needed something with striking contrast. This year was in my face and I needed the word to capture that. It needed a certain tartness that only something like the taste of lemon curd could capture. Yum, lemon curd. So, what does one do when they need to catalog and purge words from the proverbial closet? You think and replay every aspect of your year, a dangerous and gratifying feat.
I can and probably always will remember the night that my life switched course on a moments notice. I remember feeling out-of-body, scared, emotionally unstable. I can so easily recall the last words I said before the door closed and every now and then I remind myself of them and of what I never want to feel again. I’m going to say something and as weird as it is, I know it must be written. I fell in love with a wonderful man who was sweet, kind, likeable, and safe. He broke me open and showed me who I was as a partner and I started to build, often tirelessly, a life WITH this person. I’m eternally grateful for him and for the time we spent, the depth we developed, and the memories we made. I love being in love and I didn’t quite understand that until we were writing our story together. But as most stories, the element of surprise is both fun and fickle. I was surprised when I decided to accept the concept of marriage into my life (that’s the good kind of surprise). I was even more surprised when I found out the person I was planning to take that leap with lied to me for three months and then walked out on me. I’ve never felt such pain and desperation. I kept waiting for the anger but it never arrived in the capacity people told me it would. I just felt like I was walking alone in the dark, the complete opposite of safe. Just this process alone supplies at least 1,000 unique words to choose from. Vulnerable. Tired. Confused. Broke. And Sad, a whole awful lot of sad. But this year wasn’t just about what happened, in fact it’s more about what happened afterwards. It’s about finding myself in the rubble, digging myself out, and then learning to walk again. The almost 8 months following the event that shall always be referred to as “the breakup”, well that’s where my word emerged from.
Now, if 2011 was a dessert the above paragraph would be the bottom layer of thick and spongy cake. The last 3 months of my life would be the top layer, but again, we will get to that later. The truth is, I always like the middle. The middle of desserts tend to hold the hidden pleasure. The middle of the road applies to my perspective on politics. I like things centered, both literally and metaphorically. So yeah, you get where I’m going. The middle of 2011 brought me much to be regarded. I learned how to walk again. Laugh again. Enjoy life on my own. I started to figure out how to say goodbye and how to honor. I learned some things about myself and the type of life I want, need, and hope for. I cleansed. I got a little tattered a long the way and I probably cried more than I should have. But as with storms, the rain brought a sense of freshness. Wiped clean from my slate was a heaviness I was ignoring. My colors began to shine bright again and instead of thinking about stuff all time, I started to think about stuff some of the time, and then that some of the time turned into every now and again, and every now and again is already starting to morph into ‘did that really happen?’. The gooey, decadent center of my cake. I don’t even know what flavor it is…oh wait, yes I do. It’s filled with lemon curd. Tart and sunny. My favorite.
So, what does the top layer of the cake look like? It’s all about stepping back and looking at the big picture and loving it for what it was and will always be in my life story. I recovered from my 4th and final surgery this year. I re-injured and started to heal my long-standing back injury. I got a roommate. I worked on finding my place in my career even when I felt like giving up. I saw new corners of the world. I wrote and performed my best friends wedding ceremony. I turned 30 years young. I hugged my sister friend when she told me she was pregnant and scared. I reconnected with people. Ate more meals out than at home. I felt the streets of Paris below me. Started swimming again. Listened as one of my most honored friendships admitted discomfort. Asked for things when I needed them. Looked at my wrinkles and realized there is no turning back. I met him. I healed. I found peace.
As mentioned twice now, I’ve been saving a little treat. Something that has been in my life for the last 3 months and something I feel honored to have found. I met him, Tim, through some mutual friends. He’s beautiful in ways I can’t even begin to understand. His soul is as magical as the vessel he calls home. I could spend countless hours thumbing through the words he has delivered to me and within them I would find yet another set of words to consider for my year. Honest. Silly. Romantic. Peaceful. Lovely. However, I feel odd assigning words to a year based on something so new. It’s not that I don’t think he will be around for a while, it’s that this year may be ending with this beautiful, silky, sweet but not overly sweet, perfectly vintage white frosting, so my words needs to include him, the healing and hope he has brought into my life but it’s not the only thing to honor. Because, like the frosting on my metaphorical cake, the balance of sweetness is almost more important than the finished product itself. I’ve said it before and I’ll gladly say it again, I love to love. I love feeling my heart peak with excitement and joy. I love feeling my cup runneth over when the sugary granules explode on my lips and in my heart. However, it’s a year beyond love and what love has given and taken from my reality. It’s about accepting it for what it is. It’s about the balance. It’s about knowing that when the clock flips to 2012, in a mere 30 hours, I’ll be prepared for another ride just like this one if that should be how the chips that fall into place in the next 365.
I’m excited about where I am going. I can’t count my chickens yet but I’ve given myself permission to dream up my plans for any number of scenarios. Life, like surprises, can be fickle. However, I learned that when put to a challenge, I can rise to the occasion. When pain knocks, I answer and face it. I have no doubt that I’m a stronger woman than I was at this time last year and because of that strength, I’m less fearful of taking chances because I might get hurt. The way I see it, if I can get through the first layer, I can have my cake.
So here we are…one word. It’s no surprise, really, since its the title of this piece but when I finally digested 2011 and all it’s markings I settled unexpectedly on the word Bittersweet. It’s tart, isn’t it? You can’t seem to avoid that it starts with something only circumstantially enjoyable and ends with confectionery delight.
Bitter. Oh, indeed it was.
Sweet. Couldn’t agree more.
Bittersweet. Perfectly balanced.
Pleasure alloyed with pain. Amen.
Well, I think that’s it. I think that’s what needed to be said in order for me to close the book on this year and get ready for a new one. I’m not placing grand expectations on 2012 and I’m not avoiding the reality that it could throw yet another curve ball in my direction. What I am doing is being hopeful and letting the adventure continue as it should. Letting the chips fall as they may.
2011: Bittersweet
2012:
One last thing…as soon as I chose my word, I remembered this song from 1997. Cheesy, yes. Perfect, absolutely.
I think the ONLY thing I haven’t managed to cram in to the holiday season thus far is baking, a task I usually take fairly seriously. This year however, I have been much too busy going to the Nutcracker, placing Christmas around the homestead, work parties, gift exchanges, gingerbread house displays, riding the carousel, listening to my favorite holiday tunes, eating and drinking with friends, shopping, traveling, and watching holiday movies to get in too much else. My schedule has been a little nutty and the dark circles under my eyes sure show it! Seriously, when did the holiday season become SO busy? But really, I wouldn’t change it. I may be tired but I’m also filled to the brim with peace, love, and joy. This season has been unlike any other and I am loving it, loving the things it is showing me about myself and the traditions that I don’t want to give up and the things I’m willing to add in, for a more festive celebration (more mulled wine!).
Only 11 more days in 2011 and I’m mentally mapping out a plan for my end of year blog – there is much to look back on and discuss and some EXCITING things that the new year will bring. I can’t wait to sit down and hash it out.
I started this day in a bit of a funk. Surely brought on by the busy season, lack of sleep, a couple of worried thoughts for people in my life I love, and the looming reflection but I’m ending it with my gym clothes in hand. When all else fails, work it out.
In addition, I just keep looking at these pictures and I am reminded of the simple things in life. The little moments that make life so delightful.
In honor of the Mumford and Sons show tonight I have been listening to the album all day and come to the conclusion that the below song is my current favorite.
Ah, so beautiful.
AFTER THE STORM
And after the storm,
I run and run as the rains come
And I look up, I look up,
on my knees and out of luck,
I look up.
Night has always pushed up day
You must know life to see decay
But I won’t rot, I won’t rot
Not this mind and not this heart,
I won’t rot.
And I took you by the hand
And we stood tall,
And remembered our own land,
What we lived for.
And there will come a time, you’ll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.
And now I cling to what I knew
I saw exactly what was true
But oh no more.
That’s why I hold,
That’s why I hold with all I have.
That’s why I hold.
I will die alone and be left there.
Well I guess I’ll just go home,
Oh God knows where.
Because death is just so full and mine so small.
Well I’m scared of what’s behind and what’s before.
And there will come a time, you’ll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.
And there will come a time, you’ll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.
Holy hell, December is flying by and 2011 is quickly coming to a close.
What.A.Year.
In all reality though, I am ready to bid this year farewell. I am ready to go home and sing Pine Cones and Holly Berries with my family (no place I would rather spend Christmas) and then fly back to Seattle so I can ring in the new year with my buddies. I LOVE the symbolism of new years eve/day – wiping clean the proverbial slate. I’m SO excited about what 2012 will bring into my life, I have a good feeling about it.
Today, however, I am going to embrace the moment and enjoy seeing Mumford and Sons live this evening (a dream come true). I’ve been working on my Year of Melodies, 2011 album and had a hard time not adding all Mumford songs although a few are definitely making the cut! It’s going to be a great show and a great year of music to reflect on.
So yeah, the year didn’t slow down so I doubt these last 24 days will either. I’m pulling on the reins, but only ever so slightly so as to slow the moment but still win the race.
Welp, put a fork in me. I’m done. I’m laying down for my last night of sleep in Paris. First thing in the morning I will get up and head for the airport to board my direct flight back to Seattle. This trip has been many things. It’s been so wonderful in so many ways and it’s been trying in others. I’ve smiled brightly and I’ve shed necessary tears. I had to put the past behind me and it took this symbolic trip to the city of love to make that happen. I crossed my proverbial finish line and it feels good.
I’m happy I got to spend time with Lauryl. Even though the goal was to come and say goodbye to an old chapter, she was the main motivation for me coming here. She is one of the most fantastic women I have ever known. This trip was big for us. Big in ways that are hard to describe and make me emotional in ways I didn’t know our friendship could. I think/hope we will be better friends because of this trip. We have both change so much in the 8 years we have been friends. Sometimes we moved in similar directions and sometimes we moved further apart. We sorted through some stuff and it feels good. We are leaving in a better place than we started. It’s nice and necessary to reconnect after years apart. I’m grateful for the lessons we learned in the last 7 days.
All that being said, I’m ready to go home. Seattle is my home. Every time I leave I am reminded just how much that city fits me. I love my life there. I love my friends. My cat. The chilly and dark weather (even when I get frustrated with it). The life I made from scratch. I love the microscopic knowledge I have of the things I like and don’t like as I get older and settle down more and more. I like where I’m going. And I’m thankful that Seattle is the vessel that will carry me through the coming years. I’m ready to go back to my corner of the world. It feels so cozy in my heart.
Paris is beautiful. Like many people warned me, it may have changed me. I think it’s one of those trips that I will need to get home, marinate on, and then one day in the near future when the smell of a delicious chunk of cheese ignites my senses, I will remember just how special this time has been and how free I feel. This place is magical in a way I didn’t understand until I saw a young couple, desperately in love, riding the train with me 2 days ago. The intensity of their love, the passion in their eyes, the fantastic pain reflected on her face when he touched her waist, that’s what makes Paris special. It’s that certain something that makes love shine through everyone and everything.
Goodnight, Paris. Thank you for letting me stand in your magic for a while.
Well, here I am. I’ve parked myself on a park bench near the Eiffel Tower and while it towers over me,I’m watching the colors of fall float to the ground in the gentle breeze. I’m in Paris. That feels simply divine to think, say, and write.
I’m in PARIS!!!
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and while that day always reminds me to think about and be hyper aware of the things in my life I am thankful for, this trip is an amplifier. Its one big symbolic package of thankfulness and reflection and I’m submerging myself in that concept so I can do exactly what I set out to do – finish healing, embrace my moment, remind myself that life really is THIS good, and go back to Seattle with a better understanding of myself and the world. Plus, when I arrive home from my spirit adventure with my soul feeling relaxed from the life experience massage, I’ll be going back to a new future and I couldn’t be more excited for the memories I haven’t made yet.
There is something magical about being alone in a city where you can’t understand the majority of conversations you overhear. It’s indulgent to be anti social and solely focused on being present in the moment. It feels nice to tune out the world from the forefront of my mind and just be.
Fast forward one day, after reaching this point in this post I decided to head back towards the flat and finish brainstorming the list of things I’m thankful for. It was challenging, I’ll admit, to accurately describe my gratitude for some of this years turn of events. On the other hand, it was as easy as day to pin point the things I have no doubt I’m thankful for.
So now, on Thanksgiving day, 2011. While I sit looking out into the Paris fog, I give you my list. I made it to my moment. My long awaited moment. I stepped back and took in my year. It made me sad, happy, and granted me the calm space I needed to carry on toward greener pastures. My oh my, I have so much to say but I’ll save the deep down gritty stuff for my yearly wrap up. I have a word for 2011 I will reveal at that time. For now, I give thanks. For now, I embrace this moment!
The “things” I’m thankful for:
Making it to this moment in a positive state of being.
The unwavering support and love of my family. They were my backbone during weak time this year but even on idle days I know they are just 2 states away, cheering me on.
The obligatory but profound grace of my health. I ended a series of surgeries in February and then was faced with a fairly severe additional back injury that is still in healing progress. I’m alive, a little tattered but healthy and thriving. I’ll take that!
Lauryl, for opening her home to me this week so I could come and explore the city of love. So we could reconnect our souls after almost 4 years apart. But most of all, the lessons in life and friendship that we faced together.
My home.
Basil kitty, aka poo, for being the beating heart and kind soul that got me through the moment of loneliness. And then, being my shadow to always remind me she’s there with me. She’s rad.
The amazing women in my life who showed me just how lucky I am to be surrounded by their wisdom and presence. My mom, sister, Olivia, Shana, Mary, Sarah, Jamie, Angela, Meredith, Tina, Angela N, Emily, Lauryl, Amanda, Monica, Kate, Kelly, and I’m sure many more that lent me their ear and sage advice that I’m glossing over in the moment (I’m sorry!). You guys are more than inspirational, thank you for the goodness.
Nini. My ninety year old grandma. She and I have always had a spiritual and special connection. She’s who she is and sees me in a way that makes me feel connected to her in a light I can’t quite describe.
As hard as it is to say, I’m thankful for the process that 2011 made me face. I still hurt sometimes but I’m thankful that I made it with the minimum battle wounds. I resolved to never be angry about my past and while the pangs continue to some degree, the anger has never touched my heart. I’m thankful for that and for the place I find myself today!
I’m thankful for YOU. Whomever you are reading this. I’m thankful that you care and want to know what I have to spew about in any given entry. I like you. Nah, I love you. Thank you.
Lastly, but not nearly last, at all. Is my new chapter and the current overflowing state of my heart. I’m thankful for the luck I say I don’t have but know I do. For the new life I’m starting!
2011 was a year I’ll never forget, even though at some points I wanted to just be done with it. Im so thankful for life experience and the wisdom I hope I’m collecting along the way. I’m thankful that even though I fault, I have amazing people, a solid foundation, and random situations that keep life flowing and interesting.
Cheers. To Paris. To life. To love. To life lessons. And kind souls.
In just 4 short days I will be boarding my flight to Paris – I’m SO excited. I’m also wondering what it will be like to come home after leaving the present moment I find myself submerged in. If there has been any common theme in my life the last 8 weeks it’s the fact that one short week can equal what feels like lifetimes of spiritual development. Needless to say, I have no clue what will transpire during the 9 days of travel I am about to embark on and because of that, I’m even more eager to fly.
I’m not sure if I will blog again before I leave or during my Parisian adventure so I am including two mementos for my present state of being.
Until the next present moment I find myself here…
Ode to the Present
by Pablo Neruda
This
present moment,
smooth
as a wooden slab,
this
immaculate hour,
this day
pure
as a new cup
from the past–
no spider web
exists–
with our fingers,
we caress
the present;
we cut it
according to our magnitude
we guide
the unfolding of its blossoms.
It is living,
alive–
it contains
nothing
from the unrepairable past,
from the lost past,
it is our
infant,
growing at
this very moment, adorned with
sand, eating from
our hands.
Grab it.
Don’t let it slip away.
Don’t lose it in dreams
or words.
Clutch it.
Tie it,
and order it
to obey you.
Make it a road,
a bell,
a machine,
a kiss, a book,
a caress.
Take a saw to its delicious
wooden
perfume.
And make a chair;
braid its
back;
test it.
Or then, build
a staircase!
Yes, a
staircase.
Climb
into
the present,
step
by step,
press your feet
onto the resinous wood
of this moment,
going up,
going up,
not very high,
just so
you repair
the leaky roof.
Don’t go all the way to heaven.
Reach
for apples,
not the clouds.
Let them
fluff through the sky,
skimming passage,
into the past.
You
are
your present,
your own apple.
Pick it from
your tree.
Raise it
in your hand.
It’s gleaming,
rich with stars.
Claim it.
Take a luxurious bite
out of the present,
and whistle along the road
of your destiny.
