15 December 2012

Of Love and Tenterhooks

My thoughts are twisting.
On hard hugs and unknown last times,
and what elves on shelves might suddenly have no one to watch over tonight.

I guess the thirty or so hours between trips in the car
were all linked around perspective.
Perspective in work and in life.

I'm brimming.
It's another bottleneck night and though I can't
articulate well, I can say the feelings run a deep channel between extremes.
There is true joy.
There is inspiration.
There are hungers, itches, tightnesses squeezing in sweet and sad ways.
There is hope.  And conviction.
There is profound anger as well. 
These have nothing to do with anything outside of my own
small, seam-laden life.
So seam-laden, it may be more stitches than fabric.
I'm a warped weft of repairs and reincarnations.
Maybe that's what makes me worth anything.
Maybe that's what makes any of us creatives what we are.

I drove the three hours home with a mind wandering the realms
of self-preservation-  the guarding of heart and livelihood.
Life changes bring financial changes... Part of my time away
was a lesson on being smart, shrewd and savvy in terms of my time
and talents.  And, love changes bring life changes, and oh, then back
around to the financial changes.
Cause and effect.  Ipso Facto.  It's all connected.

I drove and I thought about how to stay in business,
and in this house.
I drove and I thought about how to stay hard, and not soften yet.
I drove and I thought about the kindergartener I was heading home to,
and the fact that I was able to head home to my kindergartener,
and how although I want to be steel in some areas of my life,
there are others where I will forever be silk, and it saves me.
Anne Lamott once said she felt that God must smell like
the back of a little boy's slightly dirty neck.  I thought of that smell.

I thought about hard work versus chance.
About normal days and safe places that suddenly... aren't.

I listened to Dante's Prayer.
I think I whispered one of my own.

Home tonight and holding fast to my lopsided and LOVELY
little life.

Wishing you the same.


  1. anne lamott also said: "....not forgiving is like drinking rat poison and waiting for the rat to die."

    i love your badass honesty, jess. reading your words confirms that really, i'm OK, too, in spite of the fact that my mind is sometimes [almost always -?] like a squirrel in a cage. but this we know: all will turn out as it should. hang on to that monkey: he's your light in the storm.

    love and light to you. xx