Wake Me Up

Quote of the Day: 

It is not true that people stop pursuing dreams because they grow old, 

they grow old because they stop pursuing dreams.

~Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Current Local Weather: 

Stagnation of cold weather. Mother nature swooping in 

at alarming rates to make us all remember why seasons exist.

Currently on my iTunes: 

"Wake Me Up" 

(Acoustic)

Aloe Blacc

Currently Reading:

Dear Friends, Family and My Family of Friends,

I've got this catchy tune stuck in my head...so much so, the blog is themed over and above its lyrics. The tune, as above, "Wake Me Up" by Aloe Blacc. It makes me want to dance and cry all at once. Strange, wonderful feelings are evoked by his "carry-on" thematics and strong vocals. Mr. Aloe, you're brilliant.

Favorite lines: 

So, Wake me up when it's all over. 

When I'm wiser and I'm older...

all this time I was finding myself and 

I didn't know I was lost. 

I tried to carry the weight of the world

but I only have two hands....

Life's a game for everyone 

and love is the prize. 

I haven't showered in two days. Haven't bothered to brush my hair. Haven't even removed the yoga clothes, of which yoga was not practiced in during said past days. I keep thinking that the time to clean up will come. (and I assure you that as soon as I get the demons out of my head this morning, it will happen...no worries!) But as of the last 48 hours, the time has escaped me. I've been working. Kinda. Well, it's not actually work. It's been a journey and one, quite frankly, that I'm still on and hope to be on for life. 

I'm one of the fortunate few in this world that gets to do what I love. What is it? Cleaning up the world and spreading love one musician/writer at a time. I was talking to my friend Bibi Green the other day and she said, upon hearing my complaints about scheduling a mega-jazz festival..."you've finally got a real job...you're creating another venue for jazz musicians." 

She wasn't being condescending or placating or anything negative at all...She was being herself...and as usual, she was right. I finally have a "real" job. She says this on the heels of me being unemployed for many many months due to illness. She says this on the heels of knowing how dark and deep my waters ran when I didn't feel as though my purpose mattered to anyone anymore. Trust me, Bibi had to hear it all from me. As the song says, and for too long, "I tried carrying the weight of the world, but I only have two hands." I no longer subscribe to that motto. Delegation is the key to happiness. So says the girl with control issues. 

But now, I'm finally waking up. Although there is no man that is sitting by my side, Mr. Coffee has been consistently wonderful in waking me up each and every morning with his odiferous roar for the past few months. 

Purpose is a very liberating stone to throw. Creating, fielding and stuffing your purpose down your own throat until you pop is a good thing no matter how you slice it. We all have purpose, we all have a reason to be here. Some, like Mr. Aloe, has the purpose of writing music that wakes some of us up. 

Most of us don't know we're lost until we're found. After lamenting to a friend that I was down about potentially"losing" a man I don't ever want to lose whether it be as friends or more or acquaintances (the worst of all possibilities), one I don't really even know but desperately want to, I wrote the following post on my FB wall: Sometimes being lost is the only way to find yourself. I have talked many times with this said "person" about finding purpose and living for something that really drives you. He is someone that you only meet once. If you're lucky. A connection past the normal threads in the fabric of life. But we often talk about drive...And no, not the Driving Miss Daisy kind of drive...Driving as in if you don't do what is driving you, you might actually fall apart and die. I'm so blessed to know what it is in my life that drives me. Love, Music and everything else is just...buttah! 

Once again, I woke up. I had to realize that by lamenting for "what isn't in existence" isn't a good thing. I can want all of the things in the world but that doesn't mean that I'll ever get them. It doesn't mean that they were ever mine for the taking in the first place. I guess I'm just as human as the next redhead is. (Yes, we're human) Himming and hawing over anything is an anesthetic for the mind. It will soon knock your bright shiny lights right out of the park. Your purpose cannot be a thing of the past. It begs to be the only thing you do in the everyday here and now; the one thing that builds toward that greater picture known as your reason for breathing. Ahhhh....Life. As Aloe sings, "Life's a game for everyone and love is the prize..." 

Love has to stretch over into all you do. It has to be the all-purpose flour that glues your feet to the ground and stretches your personal rue into the gravy of your dreams. (Yes, sometimes I dream about gravy...) 

The bigger part of what drives me, however, is to see others find their driving dreams; to find their purpose. Whether it's the man I think of when I fall asleep and the conversation we had about losing your way or whether it's a young (even those that are just "young" at heart) jazz musician trying to find a way to reach an audience more effectively or a writer that has words that scream out PUBLISH ME!...this is my purpose. My purpose lies in others. And this purpose, the one where love is truly the prize, mostly, wholly and totally, includes my daughters. The three of them are so innocent, sweet and loving. 

The only thing I can truly think to do for any one of them is to keep loving them until they pop open like a can of All-Purpose flour Pillsbury GMO soaked biscuits. Loving them in such a way that they always know I love them even when they get to the age where they're dreaming of a man, a way of life and their greater purpose on this earth. I'm glad they're too young to understand where they are now and have that very-cool dream of a different life than their parents still lies ahead. I hope they get the chance to roam the earth until they're ready to settle for a bigger picture. They continuously provide a way to wake me up...and I'm glad they waited until, as the tune says, I was wiser and older. 

Purpose is sometimes the elephant in the room. It's not scared of you if you're not scared of it. 

Yours in Waking up, Wishing the Best for Him/You/Us, Wanting More Purpose & Less Fluff 'n' Stuff, 

Cicily

Forget You

Quote of the Day: 

One of the keys to happiness

is a bad memory.

~Rita Mae Brown~

Current Local Weather: 

150% chance of ice storms on the outside. 

99.9% chance of warmth, calm and beauty 

shifting from the west moving on towards the inside of my heart.

99.9% Chance of a break in all things bad from yesterday 

carrying over until all the tomorrows to come.

Currently on my iTunes: 

"Lost in the Light"

Barchords

Bahamas

Currently Reading: 

"Hope Dies Last"
Studs Terkel

**For my new, old friend, Tim.**

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

Have you ever had a song break your heart? A musician? A writer? An artist? A man? A woman? Anyone? Have you ever had to forgive someone that at the time, didn't seem forgivable? Did you ever want to "Forget" them...but just couldn't? Did you ever want to say..."Although there's pain in my chest, I wish you the best...but I'd love to Forget You...oh, I really hate your ass right now" Cee Lo couldn't have said it better...

However, as the quote of the day says, "One of the keys to happiness is a bad memory." Forgetting, er, rather...unremembering, is sometimes the best remedy for everything that ails you. But forgetting anything isn't an instamatic super power that has been granted to many of us.

I've recently reconnected with an ex. But this wasn't just any ol' ex...this was one I was deeply in love with. One that helped me in so many ways, if I began to tell you about it all, you'd get bored with me and stop reading right about now...This hasn't been an easy reconnection, though.  Seamless isn't something either of us know. There are those lingering feelings of...do I still have "those" feelings for him? Do I still want...this...the "thing" that broke my heart and left me for a pile of nothing on the floor? I had to stop before I began. 

This "thing," I had to remember, is not a thing at all. "It's" a person. A very kind, warm, open and friendly...and HAPPY....person. What truly broke my heart was the idea that what we "had" was over. I felt lost. And I felt that way for a very long time afterwards...and although all seemed lost, the map to find something in the space that was vacant, to occupy it again, turns out, wasn't too far away from where I was standing. 

After many discussions and conversations, we both realized that there was definitely something more at fault than any other thing...that huge thing known as "miscommunication." 

We realized that we had to be bigger than our selves and learn from what had happened months prior to our renewed discussion of all things, "WTF."  We learned many, many things but the one thing I walked away with was this: 

Sometimes you have to realize that the pain you go through has a purpose. Pain is one of the best educations anyone can receive. Sometimes you don't realize it at the time, but after it's always clear. 

I was talking with a friend this morning about how music has a massive effect on everything I do. (I know, duh!?!) In all seriousness, music sits on the edge of gravity for me. Sometimes it's the only thing separating me from the clouds, sometimes, it, itself, becomes the cloud on which I sit and observe life from. Sometimes, it is my soul, removed from me to teach me about myself. Music is not a misnomer, or a background color in my life, it is my life. It is everything to me. It is my living color, it is where I stand, it is who I am in so many beautiful ways. Music has the ability to break you into a million pieces, but as I told him, I'd rather feel the pain and live with the limp and scar than cast it and "fix" the piece it broke away from my soul. 

There's a "new" (new to me) band out there by the name of Bahamas. (pronounced Ba-hahm-ahs) They have a tune called, "Lost in the Light." I think this is one of the most soul-filled and alluring tunes on forgiveness, losing love and love lost and found and lost again, that has ever been heard by man. Please, listen while reading the lyrics below. 

I'm lost in the light 
I pray for the night 
To take me, to take me to 

After so many words 
Still nothing's heard 
Don't know what we should do 

So if someone can see me now, let them see you 

It was my greatest thrill 
But we just stood still 
You let me hold your hand 'til I had my thrill 

Even countin' sheep 
Don't help me sleep 
I just toss and turn right there beside you 

So if someone could help me now, they'd help you too. 

They'd help you to 
See you through 
All the hard things we've all gotta do 
Cause this life is long 
And so you wouldn't be wrong 

Bein' free you and me on my own! 

And I held my own 
Still I rattled your bones 
I said some awful things and I take them back 

If we would try again 
Just remember when 
Before we were lovers, I swear we were friends 

So if someone could see me now let them see you 

Let them see you 
See you through 
All the hard things we've all gotta do 
Cause this life is long 
So you wouldn't be wrong 
Bein' free here with me on my own!

Where my words miserably fail, this tune picks up. I believe that the friendship and new facet of love that this man and I share is so much better for what we went through than not. It's allowing me to learn that not all love that is lost is a lost or just cause. We all have to learn this lesson at some point or other. We all have to figure out that our belief in love is there for a reason.

I might be in love again. I might always be in love. Of course, one can always hope that it's always there or always a possibility. Otherwise, what's the point? It's not just in existence for sex, for pain, or for pursuit of the almighty ending to our perceived fairytale life. 

Love that is lost is there for our benefit. I've learned to love regardless of being hurt by even my own words and hurting someone else through them. I've learned that there is no "perfect" fit for any one soul, especially mine. And believe me when I say, that's no easy pill to swallow. There are only two people that can learn to love through understanding, forgiveness and allowing each other the freedom to be two within the relationship that makes them one. Thank you, Alfie, for writing and singing beyond the skies, beyond any cloud I've ever sat on...thank you for your tune "Lost in the Light."  

I hope most of all, that through finding a new friend in an old lover, that every one that has gone through this can find it in their hearts echo the line (as the tune says) "I swear we were friends before we became lovers." There is too much pain and too many ice cold shoulders rubbing against the sustainable warmth that is easily found inside each of us to deny ourselves the happiness we deserve. The point of loving is to love with reckless abandon. To love someone so very much that when others see you, they see them, too.

Your assignment for this week is to find the person that hurt you and forget them. Forget them as you knew them or as you remember them. Forget you, too. Remember this...remember that you've forgotten them as they were, remember them as they are and remember you were there too. Help them through all the hard things we've all gotta do when the opportunity to love again finds your soul. 

Yours in Difficult Lives, Loving Life and Living as though I've Forgotten It All Just to Do it Again, 

Cicily 

Shadow Days

Quote of the Day:

Grief does not change you, Hazel.

It reveals you.

~John Green~

Current Local Weather: 

100% Chance of Showers. The lighter side of 

revelation only to be seen through curtains of tears.

Currently on Spotify: 

"Shadow Days"

John Mayer

Currently Reading:

"The Fault In Our Stars"

John Green

For Kathy, Wes, Matt, Jenny, Jordan, 

Penny, Steve and everyone else that is now a bit too lonely without her.

Dear Friends, Family and My Family of Friends, 

This is probably the hardest blog I've written to date. I sent my mother a sympathy card today. I could barely pick it up at the store, I could barely write in it to send it. I did it anyway. She lost her best friend last week. I lost my "other mother." The only way I can even pretend to deal with anything like this is to write about it. So please, bear with me. 

This blog isn't all about the fault of grief or the way it molds and shapes and changes the way you look and see and feel day after day as your soul absorbs its damn impact, it is about the way that letting go of the soul that once was is more about letting go of an idea and opening up to a new one. 

The concept of letting go is one most of us have to learn despite ourselves. Truth be told, I've always been the kind of person that deeply mourns when someone leaves my space. Sometimes, I mourn the loss of company and the natural "high" a friend's smile or laugh can bring to you just by taking up relative space...sometimes I mourn the loss of my own space. (We've all been there...own up to it. As Ben Franklin says...Fish and relatives smell in three days) But mostly, I have to just call myself a "people" person. I'm happier with people than without. I'm happier when my tribe is all around me, whether they like it or not. That's why I started a writing retreat program. 

**God Bless the survivors of my first retreat...**

Selfish, really...Those retreats gave me the perfect excuse to have a week long house party with accommodations fit for kings, queens and those miscreants known to the civilized world as "writers." There should always be a purpose and reason to everything you do and betcha by golly wow, there was a very deep purpose to my retreats. There still is and they'll be back up in business before any of you can say, NANOWRIMO! 

But that's neither here nor there. I regret most that I didn't have one last fall when my ill-health took me down yet again. I had to cancel what was going to be my last one for a while. My mother and Kathy arrived in Denver anyway and came to see me at the hospital. Just like mothers should do. But Kathy wanted so badly to be at that retreat house...to just go...I wanted to help her get down her stories about "Cluck..." and all the characters from day one in her life that gave her reason to laugh and live. I'm so honored that she shared so many of them with me and that alone gave me reason to love her even more. They will always remain with me. 

But learning to let go of the physical being, not the metaphysical that can be held in the palm of your hand...not the memory...as that will live on for as long as your brain allows, but of the body of another person in the forever of our eternal todays and tomorrows and yesterdays isn't something I'm very good at doing...at all. I've had to let go of all grandparents, too many friends, pets....and now someone so close to me, she was a very essential part of my soul and a very large part of my funny bone. How do you get rid of a bone in your body without having chronic or even phantom pains? How do you get rid of the feeling of loss? Is it ok to just let it go? It will be ok? Right? It doesn't matter how you cope with this, it is what it is when it is...what it is. And Kathy wasn't an "it." She was the only one that could even come close to being a mom without being a mom. 

As I do with most of my coping skills, I set the "it" that's plaguing me, to song. I am just one big, phat episode of Glee away from having my life on Broadway/T.V.  But everything is better when set to song. Everything is much more understood when you can sing about it. However, when trying to find the tune that could only deal with this kind of marrow-level loss of the soul, I found one that dealt more with letting go in the way I would expect Kathy to do and certainly in Kathy's honor and it seemed to fit. John Mayer always seems to have the right words even when they're not always immediately fitting. He's the pair of jeans bought at the boutique store that you pray, will your ass and hope to fit in time for a date on Saturday, and it's only WEDNESDAY!... Three days to lose that extra 10 lbs...but then remember that you've never been a size 8 but who cares, you'll squeeze them on and make it work. 

I picked John's tune, Shadow Days.

This Kathy, is for you. Your Shadow Days are over. Thank God, you're living in the right place now. There is no pain. There is no loss of feeling...there is, I'm assuming and let me know if I'm wrong, chocolate that doesn't hurt your sugar level. And thank God for your comfort...for the level of living you're finally in, it's right. Hard times always helped you see...you were always the good soul that learned to let all that bad shit go and taught me and everyone else in your life to let it, whatever it is, go, too. And with a smile and a laugh that infected even the most resistant. 

Did you know that you could be wrong
And swear you're right
Some people been known to do it
All their lives

But you find yourself alone
Just like you found yourself before
Like I found myself in pieces
On the hotel floor

Hard times, help me see

I'm a good man with a good heart
Had a tough time, got a rough start
But I finally learned to let it go
Now I'm right here, and I'm right now
And I'm open, knowing somehow
That my shadow days are over
My shadow days are over now

Well it sucks to be honest (honest)
And it hurts to be real
But it's nice to make some love
That I can finally feel
Hard times, let me be

I'm a good man with a good heart
Had a tough time, got a rough start
But I finally learned to let it go
Now I'm right here, and I'm right now
And I'm open, knowing somehow
That my shadow days are over
My shadow days are over now

I love you, Kathy. The world is with you. Always has been. 

Yours in Love, Loss, Living for Laughing with those you Love, 

Cicily

Never Give Up, Never Surrender

Quote of the Day: 

No man is great enough or wise enough for any of us to surrender our destiny to.

The only way in which anyone can lead us is to restore to us the belief

in our own guidance.

~Henry Miller~ 

Current Local Weather:

Chicken Little was right. Too bad no one 

believed him. 

Currently on Spotify:

"Edge of Desire"

Battle Studies

John Mayer

Currently Reading:

"The Fault in Our Stars"

John Green

Dear Friends, Family and My Family of Friends, 

Defeat. Defeat. Degradation. Defeat. Deprivation. Disgust. Damnation. Darn-tootin'. Doodlin'. Darling. Divine. Defeat. Defeat. Defeat. Desire. Destitute. Depressed. Determined. Defeat. Defeat. Defeat. Diversity. Dead. Death. Defeat. Defense. Deficit. Defending. Defeat. Downfall. Defeat. 

The letter D has so much diversity in its little compact half-moon design. It is the letter of the month in my household. 

Think of how many "D" words you can name in the next twenty seconds...now, run with them...rinse, repeat and stare at yourself in the mirror until you feel like others want you to feel. Are you on the edge of your desire? Are you, as Mayer sings..."...just about to set fire to everything I see...I'll go back on the things I believe. There, I just said it, I'm scared you'll forget about me..." 

Tell me what "D" letter words are in your head? Given the last two week's exercise in medical hell/futility, I am surprised I haven't lost it. The only word I could think of when I marched out the hospital doors this evening, was defeat. Ask Karen, my best friend, my confidant, my sister-from-another-mister in this life and, depending on mood, she'll tell you that for a moment, and maybe for a lot of moments in the meantime, I have been defeated by an archaic medical system built around egos and ergo, I say, assholes. I wanted to make sure that although I'm in the middle of what feels like defeat, I am not sinking in it. I am not going back on anything I believe and after the scene I made tonight, I sure as hell am not worried about anyone forgetting about me. 

This is not the first time that I feel as though I've been defeated, I have to step back and realize that I wasn't the one defeated by this system, I was the one defending my life. Defeat and defending are ooooohhhh so close in their sound and some would say in their meaning. But accepting what has happened to me over the last umpteen years as a form of defeat is just meaningless if there is no balls-to-the-wall followup "Shaun of the Dead" style. 

Defeat will only take you so far in this life. Often, it will take you as far as 6ft. under, if that's the direction you're pointing towards, but for me, defeat creates a wall around my mental insecurities and physical ailments. It is very stressful to live behind this wall and creates more hell than not in this life. And unnecessary hell, at that. I have no more plans to take back everything I've said. I have no more plans to set fire to everything I see...I'm on the edge of my other world, the one created by the ever burning desire to live and live well despite the big-ass defeat sitting on my bruised and tainted shoulders. 

This desire is burning so fast, bright and hard that I think heartburn is actually a sign of entering that kinetic energy space known as greatness. My desire is to tell everyone about what's really been going on, what's really been happening, what's really behind this so-called medical schmuck of a system in our country and give everyone a leg to stand on if, God forbid, you or anyone else you know is ever in my shoes. 

I believe the last time I had a desire as great as this, I produced this baby: 

My very big defeat is going to be turned into some very big defense for others. Someone has to start saying something and well, my big mouth seems to want the job more than any other its been granted in the last few decades. I encourage you to not let defeat in any form become your downfall. As falling down is no way to stand tall.  And as I say over and over again, if I can fall this many times and rise up from the ashes, wipe the dust off my shoulders and still have a shit-eating grin plastered on my face, you can too. 

And if you don't feel you are strong enough to get through the hell in your life, please, please, please go find your Karen Carter and let her/him shoulder your tears and back you up when you need it the most. Defending your life is your only job in life. Accepting defeat is the mostest, worstest thingamajig you can do to that spirit inside your soul. 

I will never give up. I will never, ever, surrender. 

Thank you Karen. 

Yours in Karen Carters, Keeping Your Cool, and Not-So-Random Acts of Kindness, 

Cicily

George Michael and Other Lessons on Love I've Yet to Learn

Quote of the Day: 

Joy, sadness, confidence, anxiety, love, hatred, fear--all of these feelings 
and thousands more that make up the human "heart" are as useless to the living dead 
as the organ of the same name. Who knows if this is humanity's greatest weakness or strength? 
The debate continues, and probably will forever.

~Max Brooks~

Current Local Weather: 

The glorious freckle-adding warmth of summer's arms 

have finally joined me for hugs, kisses and tea.

Currently on my iPod: 

"Kissing A Fool"

Faith

George Michael

Currently Reading: 

White Teeth

Zadie Smith

Dear Family, Friends, and My Family of Friends, 

One of my favorite tunes of all time is George Michael's, "Kissing A Fool." When his album Faith hit the airwaves it was scandalous and I believe it was the catalyst in my life for learning the definition of lust...er, love. Yep, love. 

I had the album on vinyl. I still remember running my stubby almost not-kid fingers over the album cover all the while ogling his pierced ear and that coy look that couldn't quite be seen through the high collar of his leather jacket. He was a bad boy and I knew it. However, my unripe hormones prevented me from knowing exactly what all of this meant. I was quiet about my inner-feelings for Mr. Michael, but hell, I couldn't help myself! The music was great and he was a guitar-toting boy-no-more singing fool.***

When all of this was going on in my loins and petty-hormone stained brain, I was an upstanding member of the fifth grade class at Compton Elementary School in the progressive metropolis-like city known as Powder Springs, GA. Surely, I jest.

However, my most fond of fondest memories stems from our end of year talent show...it was one of those sweltering, sticky Georgia kind-of-hot pre-summer days. A few of us walked on stage and made silliness out of our talents in front of our class. We knew that there would be quite a few folks we'd never see again as we were all on the verge of parting ways and moving on to that glory-less place better known as MIDDLE SCHOOL.

Personally, I feared it. I knew there were kids that had gone into the building as 6th graders and were never heard from again. Big kids, pre-teens that could eat me alive walked up and down, trolling for lunch/6th grade meat. Oh, the stories were endless and no matter how hard I tried to quit school to move onto better things as a 5th grader, my parents were strangely adamant that I at least make it through High School. Sheesh, what the heck did they know? 

But the theme du jour for our talent show (I can't remember the actual theme) had to have been: Reckless Abandon. We were a talented bunch of kiddos. All was not lost on us. Culture? We had it. Or at least I thought we were some defining generation just waiting to bloom. Our teachers were VERY supportive of us and all of our talents. 

Yet once this kid that went by the last name Cathey, first initial J. (must protect the innocent) came sauntering onto the stage, many of us girlie girls changed our mind about the definition of the word TALENT. 

J. was wearing tight jeans (pegged at the ankles, of course. Duh!) and a leather jacket. I can't remember if he actually had a clip-on earring or not but nonetheless, he looked like every fifth-grade girl's dream, kinda, and I think George Michael would've been proud. But when the music started playing and Jay started shaking his hips to the tune, "Faith," lip-syncing all the while...everyone started clapping, laughing, blushing. Girls giggled as if Mr. Michael himself had showed up to fork over plenty of sure-fire examples as to why the tax-paying citizens of Powder Springs should donate and care about public schools and their "arts" programs. 

I digress. We left that day with a bird's eye preview of what was in store for us as "older" kids. The first "taste" of love/lust, still fresh on our lips, had been handed to us from one of our very own. And it was as digestible as circus peanuts and Fiber One cereal. 

What the hell were any of us supposed to do with this? We were fools.   

I know that J. and the rest of us girls present that day are now closer to the age of 40 then we were the age of 13 back then, nonetheless, he still represents that year of my life in a very strangely funny/serious way. Many of us are responsible citizens now paying taxes so our children can attend public school and get albeit, very different educations than we received, an education in life, love, and the great beyond just as we did.

But what I failed to learn and am still trying to find the appropriate "Dummies" book for is how to handle the feelings of love, lust and the grey area in-between. I think most of us considered ourselves in "LOVE" with J. that fateful day. Yet, it was obvious that we were in lust despite the fact that lust wasn't allowed at that age. And as an adult, I can't say that I truly believe in myself and my ability to know the difference between the two, at least not 

at first. 

I've had a number of intense loves in my life. I've had plenty of lust and won't ever say that it was ever, ever, ever a bad thing. Most always a great thing. Except for that one time. KIDDING. However, what I find to be my biggest challenge as an adult approaching the middle school of life, a.k.a. post-divorce life and love and dating, is knowing the difference, acting on what is right not only in the loins but in the heart and making sure that no one gets hurt in the process thereof. And as the picture above kindly points out, if you combine the two, both words create the product of love and lust known as LOST. 

Most days I wish I was back in that gymnasium thinking that J. was the new definition of love. It was seemingly easy to feel everything in the world while nothing happened. Sixth grade was on the horizon and boys were sure to be there.  

But I'm not in the middle of the summer before middle school. I'm nowhere close. I'm lost again, not sure of where feelings begin and end and how to start trusting that love isn't always lust in disguise...a criminal sans faith that enjoys stealing my emotional GPS system from my car, leaving me lost. 

What I do trust in the here and now is the feeling of love for friends and family. My life has blossomed in many more ways than it did that summer. I've got far away friends that I'm absolutely falling in love with. No, I'm not IN LOVE in that way, I'm in love with their love and loyal-for-no-reason friendliness. I'm in love with the world, lusting after all it has to offer on the other side of a hospital wall. The world has become my George Michael vinyl cover. My friends are the scandalous types, earring wearing, leather jacket bare-chested shelter from too much of a good thing. We are all fools for the J. Cathey's of the world regardless of our age and our past loves and lusty experiences. Divorce and broken relationships may change our/my ability to trust and have faith, but there is always the church of life waiting to show us how to be "born again" in love. Sometimes having reckless abandon and faith in the world is the safest, most fool-proof method to happiness. Sometimes, the world is too scary to have faith in it. But there is always going to be that tempting first taste, even if the taste is foreign and peppered with scandalous seasonings that burn your tongue...it is our job as the up-and-coming older kids of this life to let expectations go and become those bright-eyed, fearing middle schoolers of love, 

wanting/needing our friends to sit and giggle at it all right beside us, again. 

It's summer for Pete's sake! Go out and find your definition of lust/love, again. 

Yours in Love, Lust, and Lessons Lost Among the Lazy Days of Summer, 

Cicily 

***Backstory, rather, fast-forward story...I must confess that great music and the musicians bringing music into the world are always lovely...I love most musicians I meet and even those I don't meet...and it's surely not lust...it's that instant, sweet, sticky-kisses, bubble-gum rock kinda love. I want to make musicians cupcakes with little hearts on them at all times and have to stop myself from doing so.***