I am a leaf

Cold weary...

In the dead of winter, an ember lay dormant. I resisted. I resisted with what little I had within me.

I rejected it. I turned it away. But, as we revolved closer to one another, I grew tender to it. And I let it inside.

Spring started with a promise. A boost from within, a wave of warmth and light from an unexpected, yet familiar place shot me into the sun.

I was strong. I was firm. I was young again. A new spirit that was so familiar, but had gone missing surged through my veins.

I brightened from dull drums.

Come Summer, the youth and vigor wore off a bit, but I was still strong. Strong as always.

I had a mission. I had a goal. I had to prove worthy of that ember. Of that youth. Of the messenger that embedded itself in me in Winter. That brought new life to me in the Spring.

I was a flag of power. Of fighting. Of determination.


But then that ember turned away from me. It withdrew from within my now thin skin. And I began to crumble.

Slowly. That vibrant color that shone from within me in Spring, that signaled joy in Summer, fades. I see that warmth, that light, what made me feel alive disappearing into a cold distance.

You are turning away from me.

And it's killing me, bit by bit. Cell by cell.

I ache every time another molecule falls apart.

I'm hanging by a thread.

The exact thread I was dangling from when you found me almost a year ago. When you begged me to let you enter my world.

I can't hold on much longer. I want to. Or do I?

I only want to hold on for you. In hope that you'll return. That, when the cold and the bitter winds slash your face, and tears are forced from you... when you need a source of warmth... shelter... that you'll remember the cozy comfort of my embrace.

But it's getting colder, dear friend.

Without you, the gales strip me of what little I have left.

If I let go, where will I go? How can I not fall and rot away?

If you return, what will be left of me? Will you even remember? Will there even be a trace? A bare tree with no sign of where I've gone?

Will the breeze that fanned your heart a year ago in mine be kind to me? And sweep me North to you? So that I may be an ember in your heart?

Or is that too much to ask?

I can't let go. Not yet.

I don't know where to go if I do.

But I don't know, this late in the year, if I have the strength to hold on.

Please, tell me what to do? I've held on for so long for you.

I'm afraid to Fall.

Fiction

Write about a boy who made you believe in yourself without even trying...
Who could climb a spider's web into the heavens
and drove you to do the same.


and then clipped the thread.

but demanded you keep climbing.


who kept gliding up that silken fiber as effortlessly as a seagull riding the wind.




Write about a boy who was made of gold and earth...
who was capable of dazzling with wisdom beyond comprehension
who taught you
things no one ever could make you understand

and made you believe that you, too, could learn things previously a mystery


and then closed the book.

dashing your confidences


and moving onto the next untapped mind.



Write about a boy that could fly on two wheels
who made mountains crumble, seas part with rubber and steel
whom you could feel with every stroke

haunting in the wind rushing through your hair


a voice telling you to move forward, not to quit


who, at the end





wasn't there.




Write about a boy no one really wanted to understand
who begged for someone to love him as he was.

who wanted so badly to be a star
for whom you'd give up the limelight


who gave of himself for everyone

but you


(but you DID love him for who he was)
(and you DID give up the limelight)
(and you WANTED him to be a star)
(and you never made him beg)

and then shoved you into the pit

begging and pandering for shallow and empty praise



from anyone
from anyher



but you


and made you watch in awe, wanting to genuinely applaud.

yearning to make him see that you meant everything you said
to make him feel what you felt

so he could believe that you really believed the way you believed in him
so he could believe in himself the way you really believed in him

so he could believe



but he left your hands bound.



Forever silent
Forever blind
Forever not ever.

Checks and balances

Figures. Absolutely figures.

Somehow, in this world of ours, we're supposed to believe that the scales will balance themselves. And, perhaps, the positives will outweigh the negatives by a touch. And, of course, we see many instances of where life is not fair. Where the meek never inherit the earth. But we believe that all will turn out well in the end, that our struggles and efforts have a purpose, otherwise why continue?

The Secret/Law of Attraction teaches that what we put out into the universe is what we receive. That if we are negative, we attract negativity. If we are positive, we attract positivity. But that, and here's the catch, if we radiate positivity because we are afraid of negativity, the universe may pull an "oops" and deliver the negativity.

Murphy's Law dictates that whatever can go wrong, must go wrong.

Karma (depending on whose interpretation), in its simplest form holds that deeds, positive and negative, are reciprocated at some point equally. For every action, there is a reaction. If you give, you will receive in the same spirit and in kind.

And then, we have the final authority on the subject: The bumper sticker: Sh*t Happens.

I breathe a sigh of relief when people that I've gotten to know are blessed after what seems to be a curse, no matter how small or temporary. Drew got positive feedback about his health the other day, while going through awful treatment. And he's surrounded by amazingly supportive people. Another friend is going through a similar treatment course, but finally found the love I know he'd been looking for for as long as I've known him. Debra & Sooz found love when they least expected it and had given up. Jodi, Sara & Sigal are mommies of bouncing, joyful babies. Lisa finally realized her dream of becoming a National, nay, Senior National Sales Director, and Regina made Director (finally!).

Now, I really have to wonder which direction this universe is sending me. What cryptically cruel chord are you playing for me when you give me a day like yesterday... Happy Bubble Day... I win a contest (the prize and sponsor should have been the kind of obviously, corny foreshadowing that I'd usually see in a TV show and scoff at how obvious it would turn out) and then, well... the bubble-bursting tack? Now, I really have to wonder if I can "trust my feet" as I was told I could do many years ago, hiking up an impossible climb. Somewhat tainted advice upon which I'd moved mountains recalling.

But, perhaps it's the time of year, as well, that makes this weigh so heavily on me. The Law of Rica's Universe is that this is the time of year when hopes always seem to be dashed. When I'm faced with my greatest fears realized. Matters of the heart, home, finances. It varies year to year.

And it's the time of year that I'm reminded of what is most important to me. What is the crux of my existence. Finances - while they can cause great distress, they are merely a means to an end. Home? Home is nothing without matters of the heart.

Matters of the heart. The earth may revolve around the sun, but my soul revolves around a very, very battered and fragile heart. I know. Shocking to most of you, yes? This brazen, bold, outspoken, "fearless" (hahahaha), determined force of nature has a chink in the armor. It is a very guarded, walled up open wound. I can feign its exposure to most, but actual revelation? I can count on one hand to whom I've opened up. (And, I know, several of you are thinking, "You mean, with me?" And the answer? Most likely. Sorry. I gotta be honest.)

Trust. Security. Safety. I've been promised all of those. Given hope to feel all of those things. And have had each one irreconcilably broken. And there are those with whom I *almost* felt that Holy Trinity, but even rarer that I actually felt them. Like drinking instant Sanka, and then, just once, tasting pure, caffeinated Kopi Lewak. And, consequently, being asked to forget the taste that, months later, still linger on the tastebuds and have been patiently saving up to taste once more.

And why this time of year?

It all starts with this:

Who shall have rest and who shall wander...
Who shall be at rest and who shall be tormented,

I sit and listen to the translation of Unetaneh Tokef on Rosh Hashanah and wonder if this will be my year to rest. And to be at rest. I don't mean in a lounge chair. I don't mean all the events/activities that I'm involved with to settle down so I'm not running around like a chicken with my head cut off all the time. (Which, by the way, is my natural state.)

I'm talking about a restlessness that seems to have begun since the day I was born. The cruelest trick in the universe is to produce a Gemini and leave them alone, without their twin, their mate. It's like living life like a 3-legged greyhound being asked to, nay, forced to race and win.

And now, as it seems is the case every year, on Yom Kippur, I'm going to be forced to sit through another reading, the reading that is my greatest fear possible, with that horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that generations ago, Rabbis wrote strictly to torment and mock me. A talmudic, "nanny, nanny, boo-boo - you can't get us back, because we're long dead... pbththththth."

FAILURES OF LOVE

For confusing love with lust,
and for pursuing fleeting pleasure at the cost of lasting hurt.

For using others as a means to gratify our desires,
and as stepping-stones to further our ambitions.

For withholding love to control those we claim to love,
and shunting aside those whose youth and age disturbs us.

For hiding from others behind an armor of mistrust,
and for the cynicism which leads us to mistrust the reality of unselfish love.

I don't dread these words because I believe that I did any of these things. But because I feel like the butt of a variation of that old joke, "Hey, did you know that a man is mugged every 10 seconds in NYC? And boy, is he mad about it!" The re-write, "Hey, did you hear about that chick, Rica, for whom people confuse love with lust, who use her to pursue fleeting pleasure, causing her lasting hurt? Who gets used to gratify others and is the happy, energetic stepping-stone to further their ambitions? From whom love is constantly withheld to control, and is shunted aside? Who, now, hides, no, cowers from others behind an armor of mistrust? Who has developed a cynicism superficially, AND YET, deep down in her heart, STILL BELIEVES in the reality of unselfish love, but, more like the way she believes in unicorns? And, boy, is she mad about it! But she doesn't know any better, so she still chases after it!"

So, if you're at services, and you see me squirming in my seat as we approach this section, you'll know why. (Yes, YOU.)

The question is, why is it that whenever I make the effort, I end up spinning my wheels, but never earning the jersey? Or pull my hamstring?

How do you...

Ah, I can't tell you how many times a day I start a thought or sentence with, "How do you... ?"

"How do you replace a pedal that's snapped off your bike?"
"How do you clean the stains on the coffee dispenser, when all the tips you've read online still don't work?"
"How do you treat road rash without tearing up?"
"How do you get MS Project to allocate time the way you want it?"
"How do you get Outlook to synch with your Optonline account?"

Now, these are boring, task-oriented "How do you" questions.

Then, there are the deeper questions...

"How do you tell someone that, while you appreciate their passion for their religious choices, you really don't want to receive daily evangelical statements, without insulting them?"
"How do you ask the questions you've been dying to ask, that for your own sanity, you need the answers for, when you're not sure the other person is ready to ask? And if you ask, you'll kill the whole deal?"
"How do you know for sure you're in the clear with one business matter, when you've been assured on the phone, you're in the clear, but you receive documentation in the mail that says otherwise?"
"How do you convince a chief executive that they are making a really bad decision because they don't understand the situation, when you've explained the situation and the reasoning, without risking your job? And it's just their lack of experience in your field of expertise?"
"How do you try and explain to your kids that, no matter how badly they want to do something, it's absolutely not in their best interest, and the other party really is a wolf in sheep's clothing? And, when you have the ability to prevent any and all interaction, how do you do that without being the bad guy? (I mean above and beyond the usual bad guy)"

If only there were a "Book of Answers." I bought one, actually, for a friend, but, sadly, I know the trick of the book, and the fact that the answers are somewhere in me. Which, unfortunately, I know is true.

But once, just once, I wish I didn't have to look inside, face my fears/demons/what-have-you, and just flip to a page and have clear instructions as to what to do.

Why is it that...

…there is always some moron who chooses to answer the cell phone, and conduct a conversation, in a public bathroom?

… one bra strap always slides off your shoulder when you least want it to – and it’s never the same side, nor is it the same situation repeating itself, so you can’t correct it?

… fruits and juices have to be promoted as being healthy and containing vitamins, nay having vitamins added, when, by their very nature, they are healthy and contain vitamins?

… the day after the office management company tells us that they take pride in reducing random solicitations, 3 sales people stroll into the office, selling their wares?

… though I don’t like water, we feel the need to add vitamins and flavors to our water? Natural flavors? Is it fair, then, to still call it water? Isn’t it just your daily vitamin ground up and mixed into your water so you don’t have to take the pills? Or, I dunno, juice?

…  it’s always the people that I look up to the most have no clue how wonderful they are?

Torn

(Whilst reading this note, please play "Torn", written by Anne Preven and covered by Natalie Imbruglia. It will enhance the experience, and explain the title... )

It seems, as I reflect on years past, that each year has had its own independent leitmotif. Last year, clearly, was a test in FAITH- would one individual's soul/spirit conquer their demons or not, would hard work, physical labor and optimism be enough to finish the house, would I survive the recession and have a job, etc resulting in the ultimate question - Do I have faith that it will "all work out".

This year's theme, however, is just as difficult to chew, but is emerging quite early on (usually, I don't even bother to reflect upon it until the following year). It's TORN. Just that - torn.

In some cases, when a choice has been put in front of me, and loyalty has been questioned, the choice has been relatively simple. While I may FEEL torn, the decision is obvious and can be made. A friendship, for example, that had some great positives, and I'd felt a level of loyalty to, as I was, in a twisted way, one of her only constants, had fallen apart when MY loyalty was questioned, and, after feeling temporarily torn, I was quite happy to walk away and never look back.

Career-wise, I was torn between taking on a role that I knew that I was way over qualified for, but for a company that had AMAZING prospects. Had the employment frontier been more promising, I would have been far more torn as to what I would do.

For whatever reason, this year, I have been far more double-booked than usual. So I've been very torn as to what event I would attend, and what I would pass on. I'm not one to say no (and, you weisenheimers, keep your comments/mouths shut on that subject... you know who you are.)

But these are relatively simple situations - lest you think I've only been superficially torn.

Entire connections and relationships with people that I've known for years, and have held very closely, have torn me in twain, trying to figure out what the right thing is to do. One friend that I'd been close to since we were 14 put me in a position where I was so torn as to what to do, that I realized that no real friend would do that, so I walked away when the opportunity was there. Another relationship, which had serious issues to begin with, had me quite torn when the chance to part arose. After much debate (though, it may have seemed sudden to some, it really wasn't), I chose to part. Now, I'm torn if the residual friendship is worth trying to save, as this individual makes demands to go back to where we were, which is an impossibility. As steadfast as I am in my refusal to resort to what should never have been in the first place, I am torn as it would mean the end to a friendship that care very much about. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to be able to grasp this. So, while I'm still torn on the issue, I maintain the friendship, and we'll see if this is purely transition or not.

I've also been incredibly torn when it comes to institutions.

What do you do when you see an institution that is so important to family, to you, etc, doing the wrong thing? Or, when it is individuals within the institution causing the problem, who do not have the same dedication to the community the institution serves, at the expense of the institution?

Without naming names, I received a call today with regards to one educational institution that is paramount in my children's life. Apparently, through the misplacement of paper on THEIR end, despite receiving constant communication for the upcoming year, preparation, etc, being set up for fee withdrawals with the bank, etc, allegedly, their registration and, therefore, scholarship, has been "reassigned" and there are no spots for them. We're not talking about tennis lessons, either, folks. We're talking 90% of their day.

2 weeks before the program with said institution is supposed to begin, frankly, after a year of some real unrest with them where I was torn as to whether or not to explore other options (and I chose NOT to move the kids, for their sakes), now I'm presented with this.

Obviously, I am working to resolve the matter.

But now I'm torn in a new light - how the hell do I approach them? I'm torn between calling everyone that I know that has ANY affiliation with the school and saying, "FIX IT!!" or trying to nicely negotiate or saying, "the hell with you" and scramble, for the next couple of weeks, to find an alternative (knowing there really isn't one, especially for my son.)

What would you do?

I'm all out of faith
This is how I feel...
I'm wide awake
And I can see
The perfect sky is torn
You're a little late
I'm already torn

It's Been a Hard Day's Week...

To say that this week has been challenging is an understatement. Losing a friend and colleague, learning about it and other news via Facebook status messages instead of human contact, disappointments in people I've thought highly, etc has just worn me thin. Well, perhaps a poor choice in words, there. Yet another frustration added to the list. Hard work gone unpaid.

I'm worn out, and my Monday hasn't even finished.

Death does that to me. Too many retreats back into the past, too many reminders of loss, songs swirl around in my head making for a most sombre soundtrack, etc. And it makes me realize to whom I'm closest, with whom I feel safest, etc, and I have to fight the urge to cling, steadfast, with every ounce of my being, and shield them from the unforeseeable to knowing that even when I do that, I can either smother them myself or be sideswiped by the reaper.

Insomnia is back, and this time, with a vengeance. At least, before this week, waking up at 4:30 am was out of a strange boredom. As of the other day, it's now accompanied by strange dreams with these most terrifying undercurrents. Even when the plot itself isn't horrific, the tension is awful.

Thank goodness for reliefs.

Perhaps neither family, nor friends, can comprehend what the hell makes me tick. How one thing can aggravate anxiety and how another can calm it. It's inexplicable. One friend can call, hang out and chat with me and make it worse, but another can be a jerk, and make it better.

I wish I could explain.

But I can't. So don't try to understand. Just go with me.

Frankly, right now, I'm too tired to.

Moments like last evening, when I can escape into the past, better times, simpler times, with just a drink, a good meal, and friends that bring me back to another place, and shed some light on a hopeful future, could last the rest of my lifetime, if I could make it so.

There was nothing more that I wanted but to hit "pause" on the remote of life and just freeze things, and continue to play in slow motion before life had to change the channel back into a Monday frenzy of commuting, teleconferences and, ah yes, facing mortality once more.

As I said to a friend, I pray that the next funeral that requires my attendance is my own. To bear the thought of having another friend, another loved one torn away is, well, unbearable.

So, I raise a glass to those of you quirky, odd characters in my life, that, even by being (pardon my French) royal assholes, can find a way to make me smile during times like these, intentionally or not. If you achieved that this past week, you are a gift.