nous avons passé le week-end à la plage
In moments of sheer ease...ease of schedule, ease of company, ease of silence, ease of self...in these moments I find a new self. This new self is a self I can swallow; the self I wish I could find more. I attribute this 100% to Jessica. For whatever reason, we have been given the gift of immense compatibility with a propensity towards verbal communication, but equally adept at nonverbal cues. I feel exponentially more myself...
We had a lovely time. We did, by physical definition, a whole lot of nothing. By emotional standards, a magnitude: Strolls in freezing sand, seats on tempestuous rocks, skies portending and romantic, meals grandiose in taste and preparation, conversation rich in banter, insight, family, and academic acumen, silence in droves, wine in plenty, and one too many scrabble shame walks of humility.
The worst part of the weekend was the return...a return to my ever-present anxiety and ever-meaningless job. The return to the saint was my only solace, an embrace and support I have never forgiven myself for needing so much.
It's monday night now.
I have just ordered my groceries online.
I have enjoyed yakisoba and oolong tea for supper.
I have sipped on this wee mason jar of gin for two hours.
I have nuzzled into joel's side as he watches samurai movies.
So the return was not so bad.
And it never is...
Never is as bad as we think it is.
Though sometimes, for some in far off lands (that are no so far)...
its worse than can be imagined.
I love you, there in your suffering.
I love me, here in my home.
~i think on many, and in many find thanks,
crm
post script - see full album:
7 comments:
these images, both external and internal, are gifts to me today. for there is solace to be found in the bonds of others. i must take solace wherever i can find it - i can't afford to be choosy with the things i find happiness in. especially not now, and not really ever.
as for your graceful and subtle mention, i thank you with all the gratitude i have, tucked in the slivers between my grief.
Oh what a weekend.
As usual, you managed to capture it (digitally, verbally) most magnificently. In point of fact, these snaps have me longing for a frigid northern coast somewhere...icy wind...ice crystals mingling with the sand and drift wood........
And for a time, the tides of your heart and mind matched that of the sea and all the debris you carry so close was washed away or drowned beneath the surf. Don't be eager to quickly collect all that clutter again.
Love love,
Plume
two wise women appeareth, readeth, and leave my tiny cyber space with this:
1. k. we choose not what makes us happy. "love is not love...which bends with the remover to remove. oh no! it is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken...(shakespeare). i marvel at the gratitude you can extend in this grief and see now that the crevices of your heart were deeper and more capable than i ever imagined.
2. j. you literaly made me sit back in my chair, sigh, and see all that clutter wash back with the highest tide. your words, though simple, hit me with incredible wisdom today. i needed.
beautiful snapshots of a beautiful weekend. you have me feeling a bit jealous i have to say - more and more recently i'm wishing i had more girlfriends close to me. my best moved away this past year and we don't communicate much, which is a shame. my own mum lost her best friend of over 30 years in December (which i know you read about on facebook) and although i'm very very sad for the loss of such an amazing person, i'm so thankful that my mum was able to experience such easy friendship with such lack of judgement and unconditional love. it's a beautiful thing you've got goin on with the lovely miss IM. thanks for the snaps, i love your pics.
I find myself so often without words when I read your posts - and it isn't that I don't have anything to say its just that you capture feelings, anxieties, joys, obersations so perfectly; some that are too familar and foreign that I want to say so much! I want to reach out and say I know I know I know.
I love the photos on the beach; I love seeing you crouched so close to the breathing sand, to see the embraces of friends, to see you let go and bask in weekend relaxing, to hear your return, to read that beautiful, confessional honesty. Thank you.
perhaps said ease explains my subsequent lowness of heart--everything else seems so damn hard by comparison.
oh, what a lovely weekend! I'm so glad.
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