Lounging by the pool....

You aren't supposed to be here if you are here right now. So don't continue from this point on. The water may be too shallow. Diving is allowed but at your own risk.

Seriously, you said you would stay away. We both agree that the water is too cold. The waves that grow when there is more than one can crash. Dangerously.
I said I didn't want to alter my thoughts or my writing just because I knew you visited.

But, that's just it. Since you have visited me, my thoughts have altered. My writing has changed. My demeanor has adjusted. People are complimenting me right and left. "You look great Clem!" "What's going on with you?" "What's the secret-you look so happy and rested?" They say to me.

Well, thanks for asking. It's joy. It's peace. It's comfort.

I am not sure what the secret is. Actually, I think the secret is, that it is not a secret. I am not keeping anything secret. There is no special key to unlock the answers to love and happiness. I think once you realize that, you stop looking for the secret answers to life's ridiculously ludicrous and thought consuming questions. And, once you have stopped looking for these secret answers you can actually spend more time realizing the present. Instead of investigating the past and the future. Just lie back and soak.

I am not perfect. I will still question. But, please don't let my questions blind you and make you not realize the present state in which I dwell and/or float.

If you are still here. I am not ashamed. If you are still here. I have said anything and everything I would and would not say to you or away from you.

If you are still here. I thank you. If you are still here. I dwell with fulfillment. Float with excitement and swim with grace.

If you are here tomorrow. I may not have the same thing to say. But, it doesn't not change the state in which I dwell.

Sometimes swimming, sometimes floating, sometimes treading, sometimes wading, sometimes waiting.....never sinking.

Going with the flow.

My pool of thoughts.

This Moment

I can't decide whether to keep going, hold my breath, lash out, dive in, or any of the other metaphors you can think of when developing a relationship with someone.

I can't find descriptors that suit the lips or the eyes. Green, beautiful, full, tender. These words don't seem to stand up to what I feel or witness. These words seem lacking in luster or strength. They don't seem to be heavy enough for anyone to feel the weight of the world that lives beneath the ever changing sparkle of green and hazel that swims with in his stare. These words don't seem to savor the succulent savviness or sarcastic perversions that fall from such ripe lips.

I wished I could tell you about the hands. The hands I have yet to leave my tears in. The hands that hold, touch, and caress my thoughts. These hands that could hold my entire person if I asked them to. These hands that will explore my body only to expose my soul and wrap me up in my own spirit. These hands that have a sexy, smooth, masculine exterior with a sensitive, soft spoken inner life.

Then there is the laughter. The stifled boyish chuckle that begins and ends as a giggle. There is also the smells and the texture of the skin. Both so clean and worth burying your nose in.

If only I could comprehend my own fears and where they have come from. Just when I think I have a full view of myself and my world. The enormity of my reality hovers above causing my fleeting moment of joyous exuberance to shutter to the thoughts of sadness and solitude. Only to shift once more to horny-ed excitement and fluttering eagerness.

It has been slow, steady, and sufficient to this point. I can't predict, no, I won't predict the outcome. I will only say it has been worth it. Sometime, hopefully in the very distant future, I will come back to this post and remember that no matter what the outcome, I was plenty full of happiness. My satisfaction was running over.

"Can I get an Amen!?"

If we stood on our tiptoes and could peak into the future, what would we see? If we knew we could do this, would we do it everyday? Would we constantly be standing on our tip toes? A sea of people walking on their tippy toes afraid of what is to come, maybe excited, or just overly controlling with their life and it's path.

How much control do we really have? Sure, we can financially do our best and keep our fingers tightly gripped on all of our dollars. Thus, preparing for the "future." Having money is preparing for the future isn't it?

But, what about the deeper more immediate future? What about three days from now? Three days from now is my future and there is no telling what is going to happen. I could fall flat on my face. I could soar through my life song with rousing applause. Two weeks from now is my future. Two weeks from now I will turn 30 years old. The day after that, I could die. Or, the day after that, I could feel relieved or nervous or nothing. Three months from now is my future. Three months from now is the end of the year. It is all of our futures. Will we care about how much money we have in the bank? Will we look back at three months ago and see fiscal growth that will ease our minds and make us realize the present moment which was only a few fleeting moments ago the future and now in another fleeting moment it is the past? Or will we have tippy toed our way through those three months dodging anything that looked like potential harm or hurt so as to keep us on the even. I mean really, if you stood on your tiptoes and peaked into the future and saw the hurt you will be feeling after the end of the affair, wouldn't it scare you enough to think twice?

If I could stand on my tiptoes it would only be to stand taller and prouder. I wouldn't want to see into the future, or walk through life straining my already tired and old feet. I would be tempted, of course. I might find myself on a quiet street late at night stretching to the very tops of the tips of my toes and sneaking a quick, but hopefully vague, peak into my future. But, I wouldn't want it to scare me away from the moments that lie most immediately in my future and the ones that exist in my present. I don't care so much about financial growth or security. I don't care so much about retirement plans and property ownership. I don't want to care about whether I am going to be hurt or experience loss or devastation in the future. If I did know these things I might actually become what I fear most--a robot. A functioning product of society as opposed to a fulfilling participant of life.

Sure, I am scared of the future. We all are. Some are terrified. Putting away money and stocks and bonds. Scouring match dot com for the father of their babies. Planning and plodding their predictable futures. Others just nervous and anxious for the changes that lie ahead. Maybe one of the changes in our future will enlighten us. Maybe another will awaken us.

I think about where I might be 10 years from now. It's always fun to think about it. It's fun to think that or to be asked that question. "Where do you see yourself in 10 years?"
My response will be..."I do not see myself in 10 years. I can't see myself in ten hours from now. I see myself as I am currently. And, the most I can hope and strive for is to constantly evolve, learn, feel, express, try, and be. I will dive in. I will swim, wade, languish by the pool and soak up the sun. If I am burned or tired or drenched, then I will make the necessary changes to feel differently. I will not let my tippy toes tread through life with trepidation and a soft unspoken step. I want to leave my mark. I will not let my tippy toes taunt me with my future that teeters on the edge of anything and everything. I want to love the shit and shiny stuff all the same.

I will not take these things for granted.

I will, again, attempt to practice what I preach.

Grow For Me!

The only plant I own was dying all last week and I couldn't figure out why. Was it the drastic change in climate from cold to hot? From open window to AC? I watered it when I felt it needed it. I moved it closer to the window sill for better sun. I even watered it with some of my Smart Water because I buy into all that electrolyte enhanced marketing BS. I had also been talking to my plant. They say that helps. I would place it prominently on my desk and practice my songs by serenading it. I would then bring it back to the coffee table and tell it about my stress at work, the financial woes, and the fear involved with THE BOY. I would see the wilting of it's leaves and I guess I knew that the plant and I were bonding. I wondered what he was going through. Was the yellowed leaf an outcast and struggling to find his way in the rustle and bustle of the The World of Normal Leaves. I wondered how much taunting was coming from the group of bigger and stronger leaves. I began to root for the underdog. I would dust him off solely and stimulate the soil at his roots with my fingertips. Nothing seemed to be working. I had the beginnings of "giving up on it" stirring in my mind and heart. Oh to be the leaf. Oh if only the leaf could live for me.
So, I was lying there on my sofa one evening. I was contemplating "the world." (twice I have used quotation marks...yikes) It was one of those nights where I knew I could cry if I just played the right song or thought of enough bad shit. If I listened to the swelling voice of Patty Griffin or thought about that party in 8th grade I wasn't invited to, I could cultivate tears. So, I did. I sobbed. I sobbed a very hard and heavy sob. Not for any particular reason, just to sob. To let go of the sadness I tend to carry and to send my fears off floating down my cheeks, chin, chest. Repeating random and general phrases over and over in my head. "It will all be okay." "You are worth it." "Why?" It's funny if you think about it. I am certain we all repeat ridiculous, stereotypical, blanket phrases like these to ourselves continually and even more so during sob sessions. I believe I fell asleep shortly after this 7 or 8 minute session. The next day, I awoke to what appeared to be a very small upright stance of some of the leaves on my plant. Oh to be that leaf, struggling and dusting itself off. I will be that leaf. That day I plowed through my work, my shit, my life, "the world" (again with the ""). That night, I saw the boy and I gave into my desires. I put down my defenses (some, at least) and came to my senses. The next morning I smiled without force or conscious participation. That day consisted of a held a hand, a kissed cheek, a phone call, a laugh. I listened, stood up straight, demonstrated kindness and gratitude, felt with my heart and walked taller.
When I arrived home in the early evening, I forgot to check in with the plant. But, I found myself singing different songs than before and after a few hours I grabbed the plant, quenched it's thirst, moved it into the light and told it how I was doing. No longer was the monologue filled with pointless griping, or circular hand movements demonstrating the pattern and monotony of life. I was giggling...to my PLANT!! What have I become? I know I am getting older, but I feel like I am skipping a generation. I had such peaceful and blissful sleep that night. I remember the temperature dropping for the first time in days and I opened my windows for fresh air. By early morning, my plant had stretched it's leaves upward and onward. The yellow leaf is still a little yellow but standing up and willing itself to grow.
I know it's cheesy. I know it only makes sense in my mind and not in my words. But, we all want the same thing. We are all so closely connected to this earth, to this life. I will never misjudge the power of nature and the natural progression of all the things beyond our control. Beyond my control. My leaf and I stand alone, but among The World Of Normal Leaves.