That knowing feeling.

That indescribable assurance that what you are doing or about to do is the right decision.

Where does yours come from?

What faith calms your twittering heart when on the verge of a yes or a no?

I used to rely on my religious faith, based in Roman Catholicism. But – as long time readers know – I don’t find much comfort there these days.

Knowing that God loved me, knowing that I had followed all the rules, knowing that I had been taken care of many times before lent a certain credibility to walking into darkness. I could do it.

See, I think with religion, answers were easy. Or rather I thought that with religion answers *should* be easy. Like, if you are X, then Y is the decision you make. But even that is not right and not good. I threw out that book long ago. Cookie cutters I called them. Bah. Boring. Restrictive. Let me out! I screamed without knowing I screamed it. And when I finally heard myself, it all went… kaboom!!!

Kaboom was fun and freeing and all, but now I feel flag-less. Who am I cheering for? Me? Wow, that seems vain. And yet, who else will do it and who else deserves it?

I’m on the verge of making a decision. I’m scared. I can’t depend on religion to offer solace, I can’t depend on someone agreeing with me, it’s just me. Yet I want so desperately to know that I am doing the right thing. I need the security of being sure.

I have always always wanted to be the good girl. I try to blame my mom for that. Certainly she didn’t make the sentiment any easier. But that idea seems so seminal to who I am and has sprouted again in another generation that it starts me wondering that maybe it is simply who I am.

What a boring life, eh? To always want to be good. What IS good? For you it is surely different than for I. And yet both good.

Wow, to even acknowledge that enough to write it threatens the borders of my mind. And yet life will not let those borders be, events constantly acting as waves against the fences built so high by some strange combination of genetics and environment.

There is some place inside of me that knows.

Maybe all those years, I gave religion the credit where it ought to have been my own back getting the pat.

But if that is true, why does knowing now still seem so frightening? Why do I need someone to tell me its OK? How many books have I read in so many different genres by widely different authors who teach the same lesson over and over? How many blog posts must I write? (Yes, even my little blog is a humble acting out of what seems to be my life lesson.) How many times do I need to hear it before patterns and anxiety dissolve?

I must beat this out of myself. For I must foster a new person, let her grow up without this hindrance, for she is a radiant beautiful thing. And I want her to know it.

There is some place inside of me that knows.

“Do not be too moral. You may cheat yourself out of much life so. Aim above morality. Be not simply good, be good for something.”
— Henry David Thoreau

be careful how you define yourself. the past few weeks have brought monumental changes to my life, both of which I had tidily put in under the “that’s not me” place conveniently located at the back of my mind. oddest of all… I’m delighted!

#1. I got a great cut and color! walked out of there feeling like a million bucks. not that the shape was much different than usual — little past shoulder length, layered near bottom and around my face, thinned and long bangs for interest. but the way she styled it took my breathe away. rather than straightening it with a flat iron, she used a round brush and blow dryer. the effect was stunning. not that I’m trying to brag lol. but my hair was blessedly straight up top without frizz and yet it’s natural body hadn’t been stripped away and the bottom could flip and bounce and have fun. looking back at me from the mirror was the me I always hoped to see but never dreamed I could be.

I tell you I wanted to sing! so first thing upon leaving I march myself into a pharmacy to buy an identical brush and later found to my wondering eyes that with my old blow dryer and an extreme helping of patience, I was able to replicate the same result as my stylist. this from a girl who swore she never stand in front of a mirror for more than the ten minutes it takes to brush my teeth apply moisturizer and basic makeup.

#2 I got a job. a real one. with a salary and vacation time and benefits and security and everything. it’s my very first. seems like the girl who always falls asleep during movies does fairly well working graveyard. and that same girl who thought she’d never be able to work with so and so dearly loves her new work partners from Jamaica and Ireland.

so what does this mean? these things happening that I never thought would. it means my imagination is starting to believe enough to peep out of it’s little closet. it means life is still wonderful and least of all predictable. it means I’m starting to believe in miracles.

to top the day off, here’s one more thing i thought i’d never ever do….

i feel my grief in every bone
joy as a radiance around me
anger brings tension
and frustration more anger
yet i live and am them all

There has certainly been a pause in my writing.
This is my little note to say that I will be back.

Partly I have been going through the transition of working nights on a full-time and regular basis. Oddly enough – from the girl who always falls asleep halfway through movies – I love it. It’s afforded awesome little features to my life like time to go to the gym and two weekends off a month with no one calling mid-Saturday afternoon trying to get me into work.

And partly I have needed a break from having all my insides draped over the web, a break from being so serious and a break from reading in order to write reviews and learn deep life lessons. At present, I’m neck deep in a stack of Buffy the Vampire Slayer comics from the late nineties and am revelling in simple entertainment. Why do I read Buffy comics? I have no idea. I’ve never read comics before. I just like them. And I’m not analyzing it any further than that.

So peace to you and yours. You have blessed my life, all my friends old and new, this year. I’ll never forget nor could thank you enough. I’m only storing up all sorts of goodies in my heart and letting myself life well, so that I am even more of myself when I am with you again.

Affectionately yours,

I’m overhauling all the ecosystems of our life. Freshening up the actual files to de-folderizing the computer files, digitizing old photos and learning an online task manager, and some time this winter I’ve promised myself that I will complete my recipe archive in Living Cookbook. Sometimes I think I’m a freak. And what in the world would I do if Google ever goes under?!

Partly this is the fault of Gina’s book, but I will admit to always being an organizer. There were weekends when I was a teen where all my free time was spent rearranging my upstairs bedroom to meet some new need or wild hair. The trend continues. Tonight is my weekend off, and Husband wanted to play Halo and I actually said… No. I really did. And I LOVE Halo. (p.s. We beat ODST together on Heroic. Oh man, that was sweet.)

So far tonight, I’ve checked two big tasks off my to-do list over @ Remember the Milk and I feel rosy-cheeked and invigorated. I adore this process. I’m going for two more completions. Wow. And yet, what the hell is wrong with me?

Nothing. I think I am metamorphosic. We are changing. I am changing. Priorities are different and I am allowing myself to let old values go and forcing myself to pay attention to values I still hold dear. Hobbies have come and gone. Most of all, I am a working mom with many demands on my free time and yet still I want it all.

But I think now, today, I have a better idea than ever of what I want most. As if I’m more alive somehow and now I finally thankfully amazingly have control over my own life. I don’t feel muffled anymore or unsure or clueless. I get ideas. I follow through instead of putting them down. Occasionally they don’t work, but even if that’s true, they are always a stepping stone. Gaining confidence. Walking with my head up. I feel in control. Not that life is playdough, but the way I play with it is my decision, my choice. loving, loving, loving it.