my season of becoming.

at some point this afternoon, right around 1:32 pm, i was done with this day. i felt good about it this morning. i thought, i will sit here with this pumpkin coffee and patty griffin and organize my day and organize my inbox and organize my mind and won't it be lovely, oh, what a lovely wednesday it will be. 

but as the day went on things started to pile up.

i don't like pile-ups. 

as i actively told myself, no, no. i will not let this lazy person annoy me. i will not let this rude person annoy me, they did. everything did. and i got mad at myself for getting annoyed. i got mad at myself for feeling feelings i made perfectly clear were not welcome today. not tomorrow either. i am tired of this shit. give me a day off. 

Lord, the energy i spend on the wrong things.

ben had a long day too. we didn't talk much on the train ride home. and it was okay. because one of the things i'm most grateful for with this man, and that is a long list, is the fact that we're able to be silent with one another. i was never able to be still with the ones who came before him. 

this is a sign, sweet girl. and they're everywhere. they're in the headache that lasts two days, in the things that make your heart race and the things that make you grumble. everything means something and everything that produces a physical reaction, be it good or horrifying, must be paid attention to.

we must listen to ourselves. we must ask, what do you want? and take a deep breath because it's very rarely just one thing. we must ready ourselves for the response.

when i came home today i wanted to go directly to bed. i also wanted pepperoni pizza and white wine. i wanted to watch crap tv. i wanted to go for a walk. i wanted to just sit in our living room with myself for five minutes. so i did. ben took sloth for a walk and i sat in the dark with a very cold glass of water and wrote. and wrote some more. i stopped and asked myself the question. i fought against it, against the dark parts, the parts that would not feed me the way i need to be fed, the way i need to be fed after a day like today, a day like yesterday. 

i am on a peace mission and a mission to feed my soul and i do not have time for anything that pulls me away from these things. 

do what feels good, sweet girl. write. sit in the dark and write. sit by yourself and do not fill that silence with dark thoughts. create something from it. you are allowed to give yourself a break.

you are allowed to give yourself a break.

we must pay attention because oh, the possibilities when we do. the things we see that we actively ignored for so long. the things we hear and feel, the words that make everything else quiet so they can be heard. 

when, finally, at 27, 28, you learn what love is. what happiness is. when you laugh so much your mouth hurts and you cry and ben says, "rhi!" and you smile and then he smiles because he knows. when you're happy you can see unhappiness in others, you recognize those that don't wish happiness for anyone, least of all themselves. and you think what a sad and hollow life that must be for them. because being happy feels good! feeling joy, making lists of things that make you smile and feel overcome with gratitude is a good thing. 

when you take a late train home after a long day at work and you think,  I'm so thankful for this life, this life I no longer need to audition for. I deserve this life. 

this life i no longer need to audition for. 

who is the judge, rhi?

these words bounce and dance around in your head and you think, yes, yes, YES. this is truth. i don't need to audition anymore. i am in charge of my life, my day, my time. i am in charge of how i choose to spend them. there is great power in that. great responsibility too. and so much potential.

this is the season of becoming, my season of becoming a pursuer and collector of joy. and my cup runneth over.

how to be happy, a continuation.

i wake early.

i brew the coffee beans and start the pot. i sit down and read. a lot. my favorite blogs, the new york times, postsecret. i sit in the dark, in quiet. no tv, no music, just the sound of the air conditioner. sweet, delicious quiet. sloth curls up next to me and i rub his ear with my left hand and drink coffee from my right. i eat greek yogurt with kashi cereal and feel it fill me up. i edit and add to the grocery list. i think of the people i love and pray that they're happy and safe and healthy. i pray that oklahoma and its people get a break. i hear eva call for me and i go. 

i wake up, rhi. 

good morning, honey bunny.

hold me.

i organize the pantry and the refrigerator and the magnets on the front of it. i clean the bathroom and do more laundry. i try to bake cookies with eva, but when i burn myself a second time it's time to admit i'm nervous about my first day at a new job tomorrow. 

that's okay. that's normal. because it's been a damn long road to this point.

i step away from the oven.

i drink up the cuddles and the kisses i'll miss out on tomorrow. i let this fill me up. 

i make italian sausage and whole wheat gnocchi. i drink a glass of white wine. i let this fill me up.

i say thank you for this day. i stay hopeful about tomorrow.

how to be happy, a series.

i wake early. scoop up eva, along with minnie, baby, and bear, and bring her into bed. i make pancakes for the people i love. i pour myself a big cup of coffee and sit down and write. and read the blogs i love, the fluff ones i really love, the new york times, whatever i want to read/write/think when i take the time to sit down with myself.

i take the time.

i give myself a pedicure while eva naps and ben works on the garden in the backyard.  i watch this man from the back window and say thank you. i interrupt him twice, the first with water and an offer of a sandwich. the second a bit later with another offer of a sandwich. it's the italian in me, wanting to feed everyone. but i know there are a thousand ways we can feed each other. and 999 don't involve food. i spend $12 to have my fingernails painted purple in between doctor appointments. i wear a $7.00 dress with a denim shirt and $10 earrings from nordstrom's because they're pretty and make me feel pretty. and that is the difference. i listen to this woman at work, her new album on a loop, and i sing to myself. 

i take a walk on lunch and buy myself ranunculus and a hydrangea. 

i visit with friends who've had babies. i stock up on that wonderful baby smell. and two days later i hold twins!

i get back to the gym, something that makes me feel so calm and happy and whole i could scream and cry and stay on that spin bike for half the day. i read real simple, an article that talks about ways to tackle junk drawers. i share this with ben and say, look at this photo. doesn't this just relax you? look at how organized this drawer is. and when he responds, but where does the junk go? and sticks out his tongue, say thank you again. i read anne lamott on long car rides. i dog-ear and underline and highlight and nod and say mm hmm, yes, yes, yes. i pack pb & js and string cheese and animal crackers and then just smile and say, okay because all of that had to stay in the car. 

i say thank you for this life. 

i watch little ones jump up and down, literally, because they get to ride roller coasters. and watching and being around people with no fear is contagious. and good for us. necessary. especially if they're only seven. i keep my eyes open on the big ones; the rides are always more fun this way. life is more fun when you can see where you're going. this doesn't always happen. but i'm learning, ever so very slowly, that life is also fun when you trust it. 

i take my time.

(photos 2 & 3 by ben)