Come On Baby, Light My Fire

Quote of the Day: 

Knowledge of "what is," does not open

the door directly to "what should be." 

~Albert Einstein~

Current Local Weather: 

Gusts of wind causing extreme 

fire dangers within my soul. 

Currently on my iPod: 

"You Don't Know Me" 

That's What I Say

John Scofield & Aaron Neville

Dear Family, Friends and My Family of Friends,

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about choices. If you haven't realized this, then go here to read about my thoughts on choices…As I was finishing up all 3 seasons of the United States of Tara, there was a line in one of the last episodes that went something like this: Don't worry about knocking mom, this is your house. Doors are merely a suggestion. (Why they cancelled this show, beats me. I am thoroughly disappointed in not knowing what was going to happen after Tara gave in and decided to go back to the looney bin...Tara, Buck...Alice...don't worry, once I win the lottery, I will gladly put your show back on air)

As you may have guessed by the title, this post is about Doors. No, not those folks. 

Actual doors. Those plywood/hardwood/fiberglass fixtures sitting between you and the world...yep, these Doors. 

These doors...we all have them in our lives. Sometimes they take the form of people...unexpected humans that tear down our walls without knocking or the care of wanting us to know that they're about to enter our personal space. And are the doors that lead into our rooms, our personal spaces, just suggestions or are they coping mechanisms, shadows of real security, for what we don't want to face? 

We can open, close, leave ajar and hide behind them. But there's always our inner selves that know that closing, slamming or bolting them shut in the face of our future, present and past, is going to sting when heard and felt on the other side. As the quote says: They're just merely suggestions. Doors can keep us locked up in a place that no one can enter and no one can escape from. It's up to us as to whether or not to take the suggestion of openness. 

This is how we lose ourselves. Myself included. 

For those of you that don't know me, let me qualify the above statement by saying that I'm completely and utterly indecisive. Take me out to dinner, and it will take me at least 4 impatient waitress rounds to decide on food or even what kind of wine or soda. My ability to make decisions is usually a group effort, just like in Tara's mind. No, I don't have Dissociative Identity Disorder, but I do have parts of myself that are locked behind well closed/slammed shut and bolted doors in my mind. And just when I think I've lost my mind, the team of decision makers that live above my sinus cavities, comes out to help me. These decision execs consist of my past, my present and my future mistakes, victories, decisions, and loves. The doors that keep these traits or aspects of myself, are just merely suggestions. They can make or break you. But only if you let them. Can one decision really define who you are? can one missed opportunity bring you down into the ruins? At times, it sure as hell feels like it can. 

Some people, when faced with decisions, kick the door open as hard as they can. They kick it in until the door is off its hinges and laying at the feet of the life on the other side. For most though, it is a mere turn of the wrist that's good enough when it comes to opening a door. These folks know that a slight flick can bring us back to who we were and/or always should have been. It is truly our choice as to how we handle our personal situations, our lives. It always has been. Sometimes losing the ability to violently handle the opportunities that lie across our life paths, isn't a bad thing. These types of choices often involve teams of people, places, things, experiences…whatnot…etc. And even if we don't trust these pasts of ours, they have to be relied upon. This is the only world we truly know when it comes to knowing how we got into the messy business of being ourselves. 

These are people who could care less if anyone ever comes as they've been there, done that. They need no excuse to open their doors. They leave their doors, windows and hearts open to suggestion and opportunity, regardless of the implied danger. The wayfaring strangeness of it all is a rush, a thrill, a misguided adrenaline junky's nightmare. But it's ok. For all of these friends of mine are always home, always ok and always willing to let their journey be clouded with darkness, redemption and inventive forsaken yesterdays. I just hope that what we've all built as a team is strong enough to stand up against the reality we have to face. 

Even though we may be cut, scraped, bruised with our flesh lying around like discarded splinters of wood on a shop floor, we have to have faith that the indecisiveness of our personal process' lies in our ability to heal the damage from within and behind those doors. We have to cut into the healthy flesh in order to expose the unhealthy. And then we sit and wait. We wait and wait and wait and hope that the bloody mess left on our soles and the infarction upon our soul that was caused by kicking the door in, heals and that we have in fact, not made everything worse….but better. 

It is our choice to make. It was always our choice. Still is and when we're ready, still will be. 

I've made my choices and have regrets to some extent, but I never tread without the conscious footsteps of my past following me, instep, heel-to-toe, behind me. I hope you're in the same place I am. Looking toward the future, opening the door for a life anew to come in, isn't a bad place to be. 

Yours in Plywood, Pasts and Pushing the Doors Open, 

Cicily

Heel to Toe, Heel to Toe

Quote of the Day: 

Anxiety does not empty tomorrow of it's sorrows, 

it only empties today of it's strength.

~Charles Spurgeon~

Current Local Weather: 

60 MPH winds followed by

120 BPM pulse ripping my veins apart.

Currently on my iPod: 

"Human Nature"

Solo

Vijay Iyer

Dear Friends, Family and my Family of Friends, 

If you had a choice in the life you were granted, do you think you would have chosen the one you're currently living? What if there had been someone standing over you, like a detective or IRS agent, waiting for a flinch or extra out-of-character blink as you stood over bodies, surveying them for potential good or bad traits...would you have wanted them for who they look like instead of who they were or are or will be? Would you still have thought to pick yourself? 

hmmm..

Do you even know yourself well enough to know which body would have best represented you? Would your instincts, as a human, have kicked in? 

I don't think they would have. I don't even know if the saying, Trust Your Instincts, is enough to go off of in any situation. Sure, sure, I understand the fight or flight syndrome thingamajig, but it doesn't mean it's always right unless Steve Carell is coming after you with a trident in a backlot of a news station...

Seriously though, do you think you would have really wanted to be anyone other than yourself? I hear all the time...if only I were this person...or that person…honestly, I hear it all the time from my own mouth, subconscious and whatnot. Especially when I've been very sick, I think…if only I could be someone…anyone other than me, stuck in my body, dying on the inside to have someone on the outside listen. 

Inevitably, after I say it, I regret it. 

It's at this stage, that I feel we're all going wrong. There's this want of something that isn't real or true or even anywhere near half-true and I feel, more now than ever, that this is devouring our drive to be better people. If we're always focused on being someone we're not, we'll never be who the world needs us to be. 

Besides, there's no way to know what it's like to be anyone else. Walking a mile in someone else' shoes is quite literally, impossible. 

We all know how to walk. We all know what walking looks and feels like. Heel toe, heel, toe. We all know that there are some people who can't walk but know how to get around. But this doesn't mean that we all walk the same. This only means that we have a common denominator. It's like we're all versions of the same equation that eventually come to the same conclusion. Yet there's no easy way to figure out what that conclusion is or will be. It's just best if we keep our own shoes on and respect the fact that not everyone wears Nikes or Clarks or Jimmy Choo. Some of us are barefoot. Some of us don't mind the calluses and think they add character. Some of us wear the same shoes year after year regardless of what's in or out of style.  

So who is it that chooses dystopia when we're all taught that utopia is just a first kiss/new car and/or undergrad degree away…? Evil Dictators? Hardly. I think they start out the same way we all do. Wishing for a better world…however warped their world is, a better world, nonetheless. 

Dystopia isn't an advantage unless you look at it as something that can afford you considerable perspective. Same can be said for Utopia. If you were that other person living a life unlike the only one you know, what would be the thing that makes you happy? Would the life you live now seem despotic? Or would it be great? 

Would the happiness that stems off of your new life cause bloating of the ego? Would it simplify your life? Choices wouldn't have to be made. It would be so perfect that no other life would ever be good enough. However, when pressure begins within, the repercussions are often deadly. Egos get bruised, expectations are lost and the drive to be anyone at all, has landed you in a foreign land without a map, a friend or even vegetation to feed off of. 

I wish I had a different kind of different life. One in which the poor in spirit are treated just as well as those that are poor in the wallet. There's charities for those that are homeless. There's government institutions that will pay for you to get a better life if this is the situation you're in. But if all you want is to be someone you're not, you've got to find your own way either forward or back to where you started. 

Anne Lamott, during a reading in Denver at the LoDo Tattered Cover store this past week, said that the biggest fight she's ever been through was that of learning how to fall in love with herself. How everything she had done before this love affair had been accomplished through the pain of being everything but true to her soul. How hard is it to see the lesson in this? 

Learning these lessons aren't easy. I can't even say that I'm 100% there but I do know, in my heart, that I'm working on it day and night. It won't be long until this project is due and the next one begins. Being good to yourself is of the essence. Letting anyone down for any reason, just isn't ok by social standards. So why does letting yourself down seem like an acceptable practice of the human race. 

I hope you'll all fall back in love with your lives. Moving on and up and lending a hand to those that have yet to learn to walk, run or jump over to their purpose... 

Yours in Love, Lessons yet to be Learned and Listening to Reason, 

Cicily 

I Should Have Waxed My Brows & Other Thoughts On Re-Entering the Asylum

I should have waxed my brows
And paid more attention to my lips
as there is nothing more of me, but a pair of sagging hips.

I should have said hello
to those I didn't know

Or said goodbye to those that
didn't take the chance to say, Hi.

I should have known that God would smile
knowing that this took a while
and would say, you have no worries, my child. 

I should have known to finish my work
before I opened my mouth
and looked like a jerk.

I should have wished more love to my world
but it doesn't matter to them, the things I cared for,
like, if my hair was straight, gone or curled.

I should have taken the trash out
before the diapers soured
and the oranges began to pout.

I should have known that the first
would hurt the most
the last, wouldn't kill me,
or be the worst.

For I should have listened
to those that said, I love you
and you're my friend.

I should have done more for those I know,
I should have done...more to say
I love you...you're my life, my love, my end. 


Okay, enough is enough. Hope you get the message...loud and clear. As they say, whoever THEY are, see ya on the flipside.

Yours in Cutting, Curing and Courting Loves Lost and Found,

Cicily

Chasing Pavements

Quote of the Day: 

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. 

But I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep.

~Robert Frost~

Current Local Weather: 

Cold. Dark. Loud

Currently on my iTunes: 

"Cryin'"

Big Ones

~Aerosmith~

Dear Friends, Family and My Family of Friends, 

This morning finds me awake. VERY awake. Trouble is that it's only 330am MST. I wish it wasn't. There isn't anything more in this world that I want more than a night of sleep that lasts ALL NIGHT LONG. This whole affair my biological clock is having with the digital clock of the world that happens at 230-730am every single day is getting old. I have to ask my body, why in the hell do you think this is ok? When did I ever give you permission to cheat on me with this early morning mistress of insomnia characterized by bladder fullness, fits of discombobulated creativity and worry for the better half of mankind...

Blech. 

Double Blech. 

I am more tired than I have been in eons. This is rivaling the absurdity of the culture of nonsleeping infants...This cavity of sleep deprivation is about to cause death to my roots. I'm about to need a root canal of my mind. And I know it's going to hurt and I hope my subconscious numbs me up for it before hand. I'm reminded of the great Aerosmith tune, Love in an Elevator...living it up while I'm going down. 

 

I'm pretty sure that what I'm doing wasn't the point of Tyler's magical lyrics. I've had people say...well, at least you're getting work done...That's NOT my idea of living it up. So what am I doing? 

What I'm doing is trying to make the best of this situation. There's lots of situations in my life at this moment that need a positive spin. Sometimes, when life throws a mass amount of smashed lemons right at your retinas, it's hard to see that there is ever going to be a positive spin on anything you do, ever again! But lemon juice, especially rotten lemon juice with shards of your past, will only cause temporary blindness. Painful temporary blindness, but temporary nonetheless. 

Unless you add rock salt to the lemons. Then it can necessitate some doc or other digging out your eyeballs of the poison that pains you. Surgery is never the best option. Unless it's your appendix. 

But thinking that just the elimination of something that is less than ideal, like this insomnia, isn't going to cure the root cause. Eliminating this time of the morning for me, as in sleeping through it, would mean that most of the latest blogs would be silent and some of the better book ideas I've had would be amiss in the universe. 

So, there's the bright side. 

Uh. huh. 

Sure. 

The downside is that I'm beginning to look like this chic: 

I'm sure she's very pretty when she gets a full night sleep. Inside and out. But living a dream or living through a dream isn't always the best option nor is it a given that your conscious thoughts will allow you to recall whatever dreams you've previously laid out for yourself.

Some small talk with your inner being while you're suffering through anything can also help cure your issues. The best way to get someone to open up to you is to make them feel comfortable within a few seconds, yes, not minutes, SECONDS, of meeting you or speaking with you. I learned this the hard way during the interview process for The New Face of Jazz. I tried to get it right, especially at first when I was literally winging it, but then I realized that I had to forget the notion of greatness right out of the gate and listen to what the subject was telling me and saying without words. Body language. Radio silence on the other end of the phone...could I engage a complete stranger in a conversation that would eventually translate to mean something on the page? Can I now do this with myself? Despite my excuses of insomnia, circumstantial depression or situational weirdness? I don't know. 

But I have to, and I know this to be true of everyone I know that has gone through this or something similar, pick up my arse and get my head out of the crack running down the middle of it. No excuses. I'm not the only one with more issues than National Geographic. (Thanks Suellen!)

I know it's true. Sometimes words and walls are there just to be run into at the least opportune moment. Such as this one...at 3am. Oh well. Chasing pavements won't afford you opportunity, it will, instead, give you skinned knee and eat your elbows.

I hope all of you reading this, right at this moment, went to bed earlier than I did. Or passed out from too much beer at a Super Bowl Party. Seize the opportunity to make the most of your day, regardless of the weight sitting on your shoulders. It can ALWAYS be worse. Mostly. 

Yours in Skinned Knees, Skirting through the Middle of the Night and Sailing through Today to Get to Tomorrow, 

Cicily

Third Person Dreams

Quote of the Day: 

You have to believe that love will be there when you need it. 

~Claire Danes~ 

Current Local Weather: 

 Snow. Slate-Cleansing snow.

Currently on my iPod: 

"What Might Have Been"
Little Texas

Dear Friends, Family and My Family of Friends...

I love the anticipation of a good snow storm. 

Growing up in GA meant I had an unusual sense of the awesomeness known as snow. While growing up it didn't take much. The mere thought of snow meant we (my generation and younger) began, almost immediately, to hold out for our biggest hope of all hopes that school would cease to exist. It's not that we didn't care about learning or bettering ourselves, it was because flaky white goodness was the end all be all of seasonal rewards. We could stay up late and watch HBO, we didn't have to study! We could sleep in! Or better yet we could go into the ice, dressed in our once a year winter jacket and learn the ups and downs of frostbite. 

Snow days ranked up there with waiting for Jesus/Guffman or the next Zombie Apocalypse. It just HAS to happen, right? 

Snow is THE Jabberwocky of all things weather related in the South. It HAS to be real, right? 

Just because we lived in the South didn't mean we didn't deserve days off of school for snow! But they were rare, hardly seen, hardly felt, feared by the adults and loved by kids. Snow...ah, the snow. The silent beauty.

Ah...memories...I'm reminded, while keeping one eye anxiously on the window, two ears plugged into Fleetwood Mac and my fingers moving to spin a yarn for you all, of those days and those third person dreams. Dreams of this type tend to appear as crazy or unfounded by those that believe dreaming is frivolous and hard work is the only bedfellow a person should have. I suppose those of us that do dream need to hold tight to our third person dreams for those that don't. It's our duty. There are those of us that weren't born to dream, we were born dreaming. Of course we lose our way and forget how we got where we are. Reminders of this life are sometimes blind, blunt and bewildering. This is when we must allow our peers to hold their third person dreams out there for us to borrow, enhance and send back for the next. 

This isn't always easy. As I get older and the snow storms become more of an expected nuisance, dreaming of a clean white slate of a day seems frivolous and boring, a waste of space in my mind. But it isn't. If we're not careful, as adults, we will soon be left with only a reflection of ourselves in those snow covered hills. By the time this happens we honestly risk our lives staring at that snow-covered hill. We will have forgotten to play in the snow and become a paranoid of avalanches, dreamless person.

I love the Fleetwood Mac song,  

Landslide.  

***And the link is to the best version out there.***

And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills 

until the landslide brought me down...

oh mirror in the sky, what is love..

can the child within my heart, rise above.

Can I sail through the changing ocean tide, 

can I handle the seasons of my life...

Well, I've been afraid of changing, cause I built my life around you.

But time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I'm getting older too.

Oh I'm getting older too...so... 

Take this love, take it down. 

If you climb a mountain and you turn around. 

and if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills

well the landslide will bring you down...down...

and if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills....

well maybe, the landslide will bring you down...

well, well, the landslide will bring you down.

Nothing like a good Stevie Nicks set of lyrics to bring the tears on...and you back to your dreaming self. 

So, what's the point? I have to confess. I'm amidst something I think could be great, honestly so. And no, it's not my medical crap. I've recently experienced something I'd rather keep to myself for now. It started as a hope/fear of the unknown and became this unexpected, wonderful and worrisome thing all at once. Turns out, I'm smack dab in the middle of a third person dream. Someone from an unknown constellation is lending this to me and they knew right when I needed it. This isn't my dream. It's, at least not from where I stand, always a good thing but looks like it might get there. 

It's a landslide. 

It's ok. I'll either die trying to find a safe place for myself in it or I will live to see what the land beneath it looks like. Either way, I can't complain. I don't know what I haven't seen. I don't understand what I can't hear or feel and like most, I fear all of it. The good and bad, the known and unknown. We're bred to live in a life where we address those that are part of our current known dream in the second person and find it ridiculous to live in the third and observe our lives from the outside in. Even if only for a moment. 

My third person life kinda goes like this: Cicily likes to dream in color. She finds the best people she possibly can and attaches herself to them like one of those sticky octopuses that walk on walls that she used to collect from Happy meals...She thinks Salt-Water Taffy was invented by dentists, slips in & out of conscious thought all day long and truly believes that snow is the best of all known distractions. Cicily is currently dreaming. Please don't disturb her. Just trust it will get better, just like she does.

Yours in Dreams, Drifts and Delivering a Delirious Draft,

Cicily