Monday, March 15, 2010

A tall drinka water just a'pourin on down the sink...

* * * * *
Let me explain:
These are the throwbacks. The drafts I fiercely punched out on keyboards, and then hid away. 
...I couldn't ever get them to sound quite right. I couldn't say exactly what I was hoping to say...
Today: they are here for you to see.
Because today I was walking away from school, down the daily concrete steps. 
I stopped at the top.
I wished I could pull apart my ribs in one quick burst,
let my heart bust out of there. 
I can walk slow and heavy. I can handle my choices.
I can relieve my heart by letting go of its critic.
It's not about a beautiful escape for forgotten words, 
an idealistic second-chance for inarticulate paragraphs...
it's about exposure to the elements. 
Here is my mind. 
Here is my heart. 
Bustin out of confinement in painful imperfection.
* * * * *

* * * * *
February Third Two Thousand & Ten.

They happen because a billion tiny muscles, each at the base of a single hair follicle, contract.
If you are cold, your body does this to trap a layer of insulation.
If you are fearful, your body does this to make you appear larger to those that prey upon you.
Except we don't have enough hair for either of those reflexes to really help.

If you are in awe, well, wikipedia doesn't know why your body gets goosebumps for that.
I found an answer on yahoo about spinal nerves and somatic motor patterns.
But we know what it's really about.
It's a soul thing.
You are affected.
We should call em soul chills.
Wow bumps.
I love those.
I love that my body reacts in acknowledging my spirit.
So often we force them into separation.
I am hoping to keep mind entwined.
Every day I try to hear what they both are saying.
But when the soul chills come, I only hear:

"Stay. Stay right here."
And the rest cannot be confined to translation.
I listen to wordless waves.
I listen.

"I can't remember now" he said.
"I'm blank. Maybe that means I shouldn't bring it up with you."
I hold your hand in the dark and we drive.
I can't forget.
* * * * *
February 5th, 2010
Tonight I went to KidZone. It's run by college kid volunteers during the Utah Flash Game. I sat at a table in my free t-shirt with two rows of little paint cups-- the kind that made me exstatic about life when I was little. Tonight I noticed: They still make me this way. I painted a continuous line of little youthful faces. "Do you want a flash like on the uniforms? Or a basketball? Or we could just do cool stuff like stars and rainbows and dinosaurs..." They were loyal little fans... I did mostly Flash logos. But there was one stegasarus, a butterfly and two ladybugs... and one "red monster with scary teeth and two horns and a curly tail, ok? A curtly tail like this..."
I was born to do this.
I belonged at that table.
Their was a girl ready to switch me spots at the end of the first quarter.
I painted on into the third.
I needed this tonight, to be that happy.
By the end I had a kid in my chair and one hangin on each leg to watch.

When Dan and Brooklyn were ready to go, I let the other girl take my spot.
Before we dropped Dan off he asked,
"So what are you girls doin tonight?"
"Cryin," we both say. In unison of course.
And we are. I assure you this is totally healthy.
Big big things are happening and we need this.

Of course before hand there is the ice cream run.
Brooklyn gets the flavor she always gets when she means business:
Purely Decadent Soy Chocolate Obcession
I got lemon.
What was I thinking?!
I am so weird these days.

I am learnin something... it goes like this.
I left this boy. It was a heavy decision.
As he walked away I wanted to say
"Remember what I said about how I want my family to be someday? Later, you'll be with your friends and you'll want to laugh at that. You'll want to make some sarcastic reference to it, to put a spotlight on what they will perceive as prudishly idealistic, naieve and rediculous. You'll want to shine that light all over me because I made you sad and that hurts. When that chance comes, could you not? Could you not joke about it? Because that is very sacred and real to me. It would hurt if you let someone laugh at it. And because I love you and you loved me and I know you understand why it matters."
But I can't do that.
When you let go of something, you have to watch it go.
You have to let it leave however it chooses.

Sometimes they sink fast, down deep into a place you cannot remember.

Sometimes they take the pretty secrets and show them to everyone in broad daylight until they are worn from exposure and weak from misunderstanding... until they do not belong to you anymore.

Sometimes they laugh.

Sometimes they pretend, averting their eyes when you pass unexepected. Reality is half drowned.

Sometimes they come back, look you in the eye and say everything you want to hear.

Regardless: They leave however they choose to leave.

You can't answer all their questions, and you can't stop them from burning your letters.

* * * * *
February 22nd, 2010
Today I am thinkin about this stretch of road in the desert of California.
I cannot tell you where it is
because it would ruin the mystery
and because I don't actually know.
I have driven on the skinny two-lanes.
Where old dusty cars are always daring to pass the slower ones
They accelerate in spite of oncoming cars and
switch back
just before colliding.
Breathe faster.
There are no hills.
It is flat and dry and totally unfamiliar to where I've grown up
It makes me think of a line my Dad used to sing:

Ventura Highway, in the sunshine 

Where the days are longer 

The nights are stronger than moonshine 

You're gonna go ...I know.

Cause the free wind is blowin' through your hair 

and the day surround your daylight there 

Seasons cryin' no despair 

Alligator lizards in the air...

It makes me feel young and alive, 
like I belong in one of those
mid-70's america movies.
I want to feel this today.
* * * * *
February 19th 2010
Can you see it?
Damp bathinsuits hangin on the drawer knobs. The flip flops strewn across the  bedroom floor-- after swimming pools and muddy parks and walks with sprinklers. They even take shifts waitin in my backseat, just incase I catch myself barefoot at the grocery store again... oops. (I can't tell you how many late night pints of ice cream I've snuck barefoot at Smith's... stealthy self-checkout with cold toes on the tile floor. Sorry about this.)

Summer for me is feeling.
Feeling the concrete through those barefeet, still hot from the sun late into the night.
The breeze everyone else is sleepin through.
The air comin in through the car windows as my voice goes out.
The ropeswing...
The water that seems to rush up over my head before it even touches my toes.
Because now I am submerged, I jumped from a higher safer place,
I was ready for the current.

Speaking of jumpin,
Everyone just trust me.
I know what I'm doing with my life.
Okay so I'm tryin real hard to know.
I feel good. Can you believe me?
Because I do. I trust myself.
And I'm jumpin, regardless of whether you believe.

This week my love was everywhere.
Let me tell you something, I WILL NEVER STOP LOVING.
There is this boy Ben. He was my boyfriend.
Today he isn't. Tomorrow he won't be. But maybe on Saturday.
Strange, huh? That's how my life feels.
I wrote Ben a letter.
I was writing about this a picture of this bird in Spain and how 
it made me want to do big things with my heart.
Ben wants to do big things with his arms and legs.
He wants to skateboard a 10 stair... yeah...dude.
He is rock-climbing one-footed today,
because he had ankle surgery like one second ago and there's a fat cast on his other foot.
This fat cast is red. That's Ben's favorite.
Really? Rock climbin in your cast? That's what he wants to do.
He said sometimes, when I talk about spreading my heart out, he wants to say 
"No! Lyndsi Shae be careful with yourself. Don't get hurt."
He never told me that before, because he knows this big love is a part of who I am.
He also knows that in a few minutes,
He will be wanting to jump out of a plane or climb the side of 7-11.
(I hate that.)
And I'll be thinkin "Ben! Be careful with yourself. Don't get hurt."
But I rarely it out loud, because I know it's part of who he is
"Funny that we both take these risks just after worrying for the other," Ben says.
When I picked him up from his surgery, he was full of anasthesia.
This makes people crazypants.
He was showing me his "cool smock!" 
(You know those weird floppy hospital gowns?)
He was smiling the biggest.
He was sayin to the nurses "See this girl? I love this girl! I love her!"
And I thought
"Oh Ben, be careful."
For both of us.
Here we are.

"Love isn't complicated." Chad said to me.
Chad is my new friend.  He is marrying my Claire.
Chad and Claire are very new to eachother in a way,
so some people might think their crazy for getting married.
But here's the deal: I trust them.
Do I love Ben? Yes. That is not complicated.
But making it work, making sure it's right, find out how and why and when...
that is complicated.
Sometimes love falls into your lap.
Like Chad and Claire and you get happy and married and it's all simple.
Sometimes love is Chad and Claire: beautiful and smooth and sure.
Sometimes the love is sure, but the rest is complicated.
That's what I know.
It's snowing outside.
Here we are.
* * * * *

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