say you're one of them

i had the privilege of meeting the author of the book say you're one of them. it was a sweet and simple encounter. as an alumni i received an invitation to a talk and signing by the author at my university. i had no interest in reading the book simply because i imagined the stories to be heartbreaking even if they are brilliantly written. and i wanted to spare meself the pain as i can be sensitive. but a talk and discussion with the author i can handle, so i went. it was quite sweet.

uwem akpan is a catholic priest of the Jesuit order, born and living in Nigeria. he spoke of imagined stories that he has written from the perspective of african children. apparently the stories are beautiful and heartbreaking, all at the same time. i may let myself read them.

the writer is quite warm and engaging as a bunch of us spent some time talking together. i appreciated what he shared as well as his presence. i also appreciated his discussion of balancing his call to the priesthood as well as his call to writing. he says he can imagine and invent characters on a page, but the characters in real life want and need care and attention too, and this cannot wait. so he endeavors to care and love as best he can in both worlds.

i mentioned that there is some stuff in the air and indeed there continues to be. dear reader, you cannot imagine how many opportunities i have run from and therefore missed in my life. to give you an idea, when i was in my twenties i was hired to model a bridal gown for the the cover of bride magazine. in my fear i did not call back right away to accept the assignment and this gig was given to someone else. because of my fear and issues with self esteem i have shied away from many opportunities. i know now that much of this could not be helped. there was much that needed to be healed... and better and stronger now, i truly feel like i am on my way. sometime i slip and want to run and hide, and sometimes i do, but i don't let myself do so for long before i must come back.

there at the discussion with uwem akpan, i listened closely and shared my thoughts and ideas as best i could. at the end of the discussion the author walked right up to me, introduced himself and we shared some words. i did not run and i did not hide. forgive me if i am proud of myself.

via email i have been sufficiently told off by a friend who tells me that he cannot get in touch with me and how unfair it all is. true. but i've meant no harm, these last days have been full in the most blessed way. i have been meeting an abundance of folks that are so in line with my heart's dream of being a writer that inspires. what started me on my journey for inspirational writing are the teachings of thomas merton. a catholic monk who's heart was not closed to the wisdom and teachings of eastern thought. in fact, he was friends with the dalai lama. though i am not catholic, nor of eastern persuasion (is that a term?), my heart and mind (in the east they are one) is always open to wisdom... well the other day i received another invitation to attend a talk which was given by a priest who is the priest of the catholic church of the monk that helped to set me on my writing journey. in this talk i learned a mountain of stuff about the writer who inspires me; his beatnik wanderings around manhattan as an academic, poet, writer, and artist. his time lived abroad in france and england, as well as his commitment to the trappist monastery. i was reminded of my love of sharing stories and ideas that touch the heart and lend comfort. i spoke with the teacher afterwards and he handed me his card with email so that we can make a date to sit down and talk about my call to writing.

yesterday my heart broke in the best way. i tell you the truth, the other writer who i admired, marianne williamson, was teaching at a beautiful chapel on 5th avenue. the very 5th avenue that houses tiffany's and armani... my kind of place! i was looking up a few things on the internet and ran into the information that she would be teaching a 1 day workshop here in the city. sweet! and yes, they tell me there is still space available to attend. so i go. i've read her books over the years, and though they are dreamy in a let's talk about miracles kind of way, i dig that kind of stuff. and i get to meet her. told you some stuff was in the air... the workshop was for 5 hours in a beautiful chapel on 5th avenue. she shared some good and helpful stuff in general, but in particular, when i paused during a break and talked myself into introducing myself, she was quite unkind and dismissive to me. i was heartbroken. maybe she's had enough of folk who admire her work and want to meet her. with that said i'm coming back around.

i was able to dip into my ownself and come up with some words of inspiration and encouragement in order to continue this journey. i am able to re-member something important, and i hope to remind you blog buddies, that if we do the stuff we love, we are on the right track. and if we do it and live it, things will begin to connect and unfold in ways that we have dreamed of or even better. and it won't look like anybody else's life or stuff, it will be tailor made especially for ourselves...

so, although she was unkind i was forced to remember that she is not the boss of me. and i remembered the stuff i love; writing, telling stories, yoga, learning languages, traveling and sweet kisses... if we do the stuff we love, it comes together in a way that sweetens our dreams and our lives... tell me, what do you love?

i learned too that sometimes stuff takes time, we may not get all our goodies when we ask for them or when we want them, sometimes it takes time, time for us to grow into them, or even time to realise that it's simply not what we need... time let's us know...

i shared a quote some time ago... and i still mean it... one who waits for something good, never waits too long. ~swedish proverb

when i last shared this quote i remember N. sharing about waiting, her waiting those nine months for her sweet baby to be born.

should i use a metaphor, that which we love takes time, and when we meet it, whether it is husband or wife, career or another dream... we hope and know with all our heart that timing says... now, you are ready...

the poet and writer rilke shares that we are to live the questions. and perhaps someday we will live ourselves into the very answers. when we are ready... that which we love... will fit like a kid glove; soft and lovely.

this post has been long. are you still with me? forgive me for going on, but i hope with sweet steamy cafe or tea in hand, it has been a meaningful read and worth your time. i'll be connecting with my friend who is mad at me for being away for too long. nice to have friends who miss us. and i shall be connecting again with you...

quelle heure est il?

been catching up on some stuff that needs to get done. and too i have been walking around thinking about how i need to be telling me little stories. how to get back into it? i thought this morning lets start slow and little... poco a poco...

there has always been a little encounter that i think of from time to time that still tickles me. was it in the eighties? there were advertisements for the movado watch, the museum watch. it's a sleek, stylish, sweet little thing. the thing that always caught my eye, as well, is it does not have any numbers on it... it's a part of what makes it so... cool.

well one day i was walking in manhattan and i asked a gentleman passing by for the time. this was when folks wore watches, now we just glance at our cell/mobile telephones. so i asked him for the time, and in midstep he glanced at his watch. i noticed right away it was a movado. i've always thought they were beautiful (and expensive) watches. so he tells me the time, it's 4pm. then he looks at me and i can see he is not sure, and then he says or is it 5pm? i look at him in wonder, and then he smiles and says shyly and sweetly it's a movado.

thing is i understood completely, the watch is lovely, but it's got no numbers on it, it's simply hard to tell. i also thought, all that money for a watch and you can't tell the time...

i must admit, if one were gifted to me, i would not give it back, it's so pretty, who cares what time it is...

...

aha, the weekend has snuck up on us again. do have a sweet weekend. what are you up to? and i see too i have some new visitors who have popped by because Angie may have mentioned that over here, i'm a dreamer... daydreaming is a sport for me and i try to string some words together to tell you about it. thanks so much for stopping by, and i shall drop in on you and see what you're all up to.

have a wonderful weekend and stay cosy... bises!!

alegria

ok. i'm on my way back. the guests have gone and i hope they had as nice a time as i did. can you imagine seeing nyc for the very first time? i love showing folks around too because it allows me to see the city through virgin eyes... and new perspectives...

walking across the brooklyn bridge
views at sunset atop the empire state building
ice skating at rockefeller center
strolls through central park on into the metropolitan museum of art...
dining and wine...

i'm sweetly tired. you know that feeling when you're exhausted after an exquisite time? i'm slowly recovering, the soothing comforts of tea, lisa ekdahl on the music box, sting concert tickets arrived yesterday, and missing you and wanting so much to get back to writing. when i am writing i feel at home.



dear blog friends, may i please say to you that something is in the air. after some years of deep introspection, quiet and aloneness, my spirit speaks to me and tells me, that was a season and that season is ending. dare i embrace my gifts, all of them, and step out on life? in the past fear has kept me stuck, but now, though still fearful at times, i know as the writer Audre Lorde says, fear will not keep me safe. i am urged now to step out on life... work, home, joy, love, living!!

i feel like the little cracks in my heart are mending nicely, and we are ready to try again. i smile, i look and see, i listen and hear, i pray, breathe, and go slowly...

sending kisses to you...
can you believe there is already christmas stuff happening? i don't mind, i love it, the music, all the pretty sparkly colours and decor, cosy thoughts of festive gatherings and cheer... we've still got some time before the actual day, don't let yourself get overwhelmed with what you're 'supposed' to do, instead be taken over by all the stuff you love, and let the rest go...

until soon

i've got to finish the laundry, and showering will be beneficial before guests arrive for a long weekend... all the practical things that make life go...

i'll be away from here for a few days and i know now already that i will miss it. when i am writing i need to be alone, guess that's just how i roll... but if the house will be full, with merriment i hope, it will be difficult to steal away and write a bit.

i'm strategizing, thinking still if i don't have privacy to write these next coming days, that maybe i can steal a few moments in the morning, before the house is stirring and write some lines in my journal...

we'll see how it goes...

i wonder why i felt like posting the above picture, i think some how it captures how i'm feeling, quite pretty these days (unusual for me) and quiet and thought~full, and pensive. i think my excitment doesn't show, but in my quietness i am thinking of lots of pretty things that need my care and attention, and trying to give myself the permission to enjoy deeply, that is to let go... and let inside a kind of loveliness knocking on the door...

speaking of lovely, ...i'm thinking of you and i hope you will have a wonderful weekend!


bisou

the art of defense

the subconscious is a funny thing. the truth is, i walked into a karate studio and asked about beginning karate lessons. i was pretty strong in my conviction for needing to learn and know how to defend myself at that moment. this was some months ago. what surprises me now that the time has passed, is that i can see something more clearly now. that is, i was hanging around with someone that i found hurt me a lot by many of the things she said and did. i'd tell myself not to be so sensitive...

she moved away and the moment she left town i felt more at peace. that strong desire to take karate lessons dissapated, though i did not make the connection between wanting and needing to learn to defend myself and the time i spent with her.

she's an incredibly interesting and intelligent lady, i was always enthralled by what she had to say or the activities we'd plan for playing around the city. but she had a way of saying hurtful things, and i'd try and brush it off. still i found it strange when i walked into that karate studio that day.

it seems our hearts tell us what we wish to not believe with our minds...

who is Gordon Sumner?

i wrote a few lines in my journal this morning... they were these lines...

i'm no good this morning. i'm waiting for Sting tickets to go on sale at noon. i won't be any good to anyone until i have a chance to get tickets, and i hope i do...

....

this morning i could almost do nothing. i knew i would be no good, my mind would not be able to concentrate until i knew one way or the other if i could get tickets to see Sting. now a days with the price of concert tickets, i'm happy that i don't have a deep desire to see many musicians. there are only 2 persons i would pay to see at the prices that are asked of fans these days, that is Sade and the other is Sting.

i can still remember my introduction to Sting. it was quite vivid and quite sweet. there was a boy i liked. to this day i can't get over how cute he was. i guess i was about 19 or 20 years old, and we were in his apartment listening to music. he asked me if i liked Sting. I had no idea who or what that was, and i told him so. i didn't even know who The Police were. well, he put on the music of Sting and began to sing it to me. they were some of the most delicious and melodic sounds. while the music played on, this young man kissed me. i was a girl in heaven.

you know how we girls were, and still can be. i was telling all dreamily my best friend about this boy, how much i liked him, and how cute he was. it just so happened that while i was with her we kind of ran into him. she and i were on an up escalator and he was on the down escalator when he called out my name. i was in shock and said to my friend 'that's him, that's him!' she took one look at him and stumbled he was so cute. we too girls walked off dreamily after that encounter... there was something about him that was incredibly charming...

anywho, i have been a fan of the music of Sting for the richness of his lyrics, jazzlike tunes, and sincere performance for years now.

i did get tickets!!

getting tickets to a concert in nyc is a real workout. just to give you an idea, i have been sweating this deal for about a week now. tickets went on sale today at noon. i had my lap top primed and telephone on speed dial as i'd already entered the telephone number to dial up for tickets.

as soon as!! the clock struck noon i hit redial and began finding tickets on the website at the same time. upon getting through on the telephone and pressing enter on the computer, the show was sold out. really that is how it works, shows sell out in minutes. i begged the lady on the telephone to look again to see if there was anything. looking, she's telling me 'no, there is such a high demand for these shows, they sell out immediately.' then a hesitation, 'oh wait, i have these two tickets...' and whatever she said after that no longer registered for me... i said please book those... and she did and they are on the way.

why should you care about all of this? there is absolutely no reason why... only that you are kind enough to indulge me as i am a happy girl at the moment as i get to see Sting in december... in the height of all the christmas beauty and festiveness...

i just wanted to share this moment with you, maybe much like the moment i shared with my friend when i was mesmerized by that sweet boy's kiss...

dear you, have a sweet kissable day! i mean that!

p.s. Gordon Sumner is Sting's given name...

dear You

photo from 'woodleywonderworks

I was writing in response to your comments on my previous post titled girl daydreaming. my words kept flowing and i thought this is incredibly long yet i mean every word so i am posting it here...


Dear Angie, Susu, and La Belette Rouge, Red Lipstick Style, Nuria, and Hans... you may remember from some of my writings that I mentioned that I like to save (and savor) the too good things, things that seem too good to be true, like music i adore, sun dried tomatoes, the cutest boys... i like to run and hide.

well you have done it, you pop in on my blog and you read my stories and you share more than words of encouragement, you share care, loveliness, and attention! and i am feeling incredibly full and lifted up. so now that i have this wonderful feeling i'm ready to run and hide (from all the goodies), and i'm talking to myself, 'stay.' and i will, i will not self destruct, i will stay and write my way through (and further into!) this joy.

thank you for the care and attention you share. i have been sure to write in my journal these days, but i am working through returning here and writing. and i will, because it's too good not to. I really have been enjoying myself when i sit down to write here and share little stories with you. and you write back and tell me that they are good. and i believe you and i am getting more and more confidence.

so there are two things, okay three things i must know and do, that is to write when if feels blissfully wonderful like now, and the 2nd is to write, still when i am down and blue, and the 3rd is simply to write, no matter...

thank you with so much of my heart!