defeat

so, my house has been on the market for several weeks now and nary a word. in fact, only one person has come to see it at all; which makes the extra daily housecleaning feel like salt in the wound. i know it's nothing personal. there are hundreds of houses on the market in the area at the same or better value proposition. and i know it only takes one buyer. but still, as i feel my financial footing slipping, i'm anxious to grasp the life raft..and let go of the sinking ship. (better known as the mortgage i can't afford.)

i believe in the principle of abundance. i really do. and i've been known to say, 'there will always be more money..', which i wholeheartedly believe. but sometimes, my confidence wavers.

my anxiety raises.
my hopelessness prevails.

and all i can think about is escaping. i've been doing a much better job of staying on top of my money, tracking and counting and using cash as much as possible; but when the red outweighs the black, i simply want to run away. and sometimes shop.

it's sort of like getting on the scale, seeing a bigger number than you expect or desire, and then consoling yourself with a bag of peanut m&ms. a bit self-defeating.

i'm generally not a very competitive person and i've finally realized why that is. because whenever i feel the desire to win, i simply defeat myself.

sigh

d: a competitive spirit that drives, rather than runs over
b: i believe in abundance.. abundance unreliant on my belief.
g: awareness is the first step in change

two-stepping

today the eye doctor told me that my vision had improved a step in each eye. i thought that was an odd thing, but he said, 'it's not unusual in the thirties...'

i'm near sighted, so i guess that means my near is extending a little further these days. i don't know. frankly, without my lenses, everything is still a blur so the nominal improvement is rather moot.

that seems to be the way improvements go lately. two steps forward and one back. or two steps in a circle even. i've never been a great dancer and certainly never learned to two step. but when i was a little girl, just like most children i imagine, i loved to spin until i was too dizzy to stand up. two steps around in a circle.

that's how i feel tonight. two stepping in a circle. two steps in a dizzy mess. two steps and i'm falling down.

d: a partner's hand to pick me up
b: i can see a little further into the distance
g: haley tells me she's an excellent two-stepper

imago

Mortal wounds, once sustained but never healed, are like bound feet.
One does not notice how much they hurt until someone takes the bindings off,
and then the pain is great.
And sometimes we make the mistake of running from the person
who removes the bindings rather than from the one who put them on.

-merle shain, hearts that we broke long ago

i've been reading a couple books about the concept of 'imago' and it seems like a cruel joke being played on us by god. the idea is that we seek partners who manifest characteristics, good and bad, of our primary caregivers as children. these partners not only match a set of subconscious criteria that we seek to nurture us, but also match in the ways they can trigger our childhood wounds.

so why would we seek this out? why would we want a partner, an "imago match" per this framework, that has the unique capacity to open our most painful memories and trigger the same emotional responses? well, this is the cruel part. not only can they bring the most raw and gory emotions to the surface, they also match in all the good ways. and 'good' is an understatement; because it's the most powerful connection ever. so where we can have the best emotional connection ever, we can also be hurt the most.

the highest highs, the lowest lows. i guess that's what vulnerability means.

the theory goes that because of the imago's ability to reopen those dark scars, they also have the ability to heal them.

but the opening is so painful. it is.
which is why i call it a cruel joke.

i just learned the word 'imago' yet some of the concepts were familiar to me. my mom gave me shain's book hearts that we broke long ago a long time back, and i copied many passages from my reading into my journal. her book from 1983 preceded the imago theory, at least as described by harville hendrix (the original author of the concept) by at least five years, but some of her ideas are very similar.

bound feet.. mortal wounds.. perhaps the psychological version of shooting the messenger.

my mom only taught me three prayers in my lifetime. two as children and one as a teen. now i lay me down to sleep, the lord's prayer, and the serenity prayer. in that order. i'm a spiritual person, but not necessarily one who prays in the typical fashion. in fact, i almost typed 'two prayers', omitting the lord's from the list. (it's been that long since it's come to mind, i suppose.)

but the serenity prayer, i love.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.

i repeat it over and over like a chant when my feet are unbound. i find serenity is immediate, courage slower, and i'm still waiting for wisdom.

tonight i am praying.

d: for serenity
b: courageous
g: wisdom passed down from my mother

cyclone

ugh. it's a nasty cycle this female thing. and i have the misfortune of being on the three week version, rather than the typical four. which means that two out of every three weeks, which is a lot, my hormones have me mostly insane: a cyclone of emotions.

[sidenote: somehow in my house-for-sale organization frenzy i put my vitamins out of sight and so i've fallen off the supplement bandwagon. they really were helping for a few months there. i've got to get them out from under the counter and put them back into my routine. really. i need all the help i can get.]

when i feel like this everything is too much. everything is too hard. too complicated. too much. and i feel horrible about myself. and then i do things that make me feel even more horrible about myself. like snapping at the boys. or eating three brownies. or just generally being a big baby. and did i mention feeling awful about myself? yeah. that's the worst of it.

a cyclone.

i'm exhausted. the bike fiasco continued today. and though we did finally get four bikes, in working condition, on the silver comet trail; it sort of felt like much ado about nothing. flat, paved trail is anticlimactic with my new off-road monster machine. we followed that by an hour or so on the tennis court. (thank god. that's the only part of my day that i felt good about.) and then i cooked dinner. boys to bed. and now, here i sit. eyes propped open, typing. haley drawing beside me. wishing i could trade bodies with anyone to get out of the storm. (not to mention i have some body upgrades i wouldn't mind getting in a trade. and let's just say, the brownies aren't getting me any closer.)

d: a new day. a fresh batch of serotonin. an offer on the house. a direct deposit on any one of my three outstanding invoices. (better stop there..)
b: tennis. felt. great.
g: spring break is over tomorrow. just in time.

caged

right through that wire cage is a blue sky. a sunny day. a green vista. a welcome pasture of soft, living earth in the midst of a still wintering forest. perhaps it was foreshadowing the drama that would unfold in my pursuit of bicycles for the family.

todd's came first. a neighbor offered one for a deal. barely used. totally adequate. just barely his size, with lots of room to accommodate his impending growth spurts. i thought, 'wow, that was easy... now for two more.'

one fruitless chase after another on craigslist and a couple days of exploring every metro bike shop and i was quite discouraged. i turned to ebay, somewhat cautious, but also somewhat desperate. i found a great deal. watched it several days. won it in the last few seconds. the seller had 99 point something percent positive feedback. it was scheduled to arrive on monday by ups.

on monday, on the way back from camping, we stopped at a bike shop in the outskirts of atlanta and haley purchased the bike she'd made a deal on. in the interest of getting it home in my car and the vision we both had for a week of mountain biking, i purchased a car bike rack. it would only hold three bikes - but it was the biggest they had in stock. the guy promised to order a four bike rack and let me know when it was in. i planned to exchange the three for the four.

then we hurried to my house to unwrap the bike delivered by ups. (you can probably imagine where this story is going.) it was there. as promised.

except, not quite as promised. it needed some assembly, which i expected, but was missing a few essential assembly items (such as screws), which i did not expect. the brakes were in pieces in the bottom of the box and the bike was covered in mud and heavily worn. a far cry from the description and the pictures - which i suspect were manufacturer's pics of this bike, when new. (incidentally, the ebay listing assured buyers that they were 'actual pictures' of the bike up for bid.)

argh.
talked to a bike shop. estimate to put bike in working order was $100-$150.
suddenly it's not such a great deal.

so of course, i contact the seller to return it. they will happily take it back. and all i'll be out is the return shipping. personally i don't think i should be out anything, but ebay and the seller don't see it my way.

argh.

meanwhile, the four bike rack comes in and i drive up to flowery branch to make the exchange. only to find out that it won't fit on my car. oh - i forgot to mention, the three bike rack that i originally purchased won't actually hold three bikes safely - and without a supply of straps and bungee cords, won't even hold a single bike. (no, it did not come with these straps.) so, here i am on my second bike rack that won't work. and out the return shipping for the ebay bike.

i talk to the owner of the bike shop about ordering yet another bike rack. at this point i'd prefer to simply take my refund and find another source. but as luck would have it, the shop return policy is for store credit only.

argh.

he orders me the 'bike rack that will fit every car' and says, 'if this one won't work, nothing will.' incidentally, it's for three bikes only because there isn't a trunk mounted four bike rack that's decent and my car can't accommodate a receiver hitch. i said, 'before you order that (very expensive) rack, please ask your representative if it will fit my car.' he wrote down my car model and year and my phone number, promising to call when it arrived.

at this point i've purchased myself a brand new bike, from another suburban bike shop, and been combing craigslist (giving it another shot) for luke. i still have no way of transporting even one bike, let alone two or three. (and never mind four.)

i expected the new bike rack to arrive yesterday, but didn't hear from the shop. today on the way to the gym i pulled up the manufacturer's website to show haley the rack and noticed a 'fit calculator'. i entered in my vehicle details and pushed 'show me racks that fit'.

umm. five racks popped up. two of which were for three bikes.
but not the rack i'm expecting.

so, i phoned the bike shop. the owner had assured me he'd check before ordering, so either he didn't or he didn't order. and either way, why hadn't i heard from him? the guy there today relays that yes the rack was ordered. and apparently no, the owner hadn't checked on fit. and then 'if that one won't work, nothing will.'

not true. in fact, there are several that will fit according to this same manufacturer and if they'd bothered to check, they'd know.

argh

still out the return shipping on ebay bike. now out the original cost of the three bike rack - seeing as i haven't found another rack to apply the credit towards - and as of yet no promise of a refund...enter luke's bike.

last night i stumbled across a promising listing on craigslist. a middle aged hippie that repairs bikes and restores vw vans had about five bikes listed for sale. two of which were mountain bikes in luke's size and pretty much what i wanted to pay, provided they were in good working order.

so, today we made the hour long drive to the other side of the city to investigate and subsequently purchase one of these bikes. it's the first time in two months (or more?) that i've been so overcome with sleepiness that i had to stop the car and close my eyes. none of my mental gymnastics could wake me up. (a nap and fully caffeinated coffee did help though. amazing what caffeine will do to you when you've been off it for so long.)

the bikes weren't great, i'll admit. but they were decent. luke rode two and chose one. it seemed to work fine. shifted and braked. adjusted to his height. all systems go. i paid and we put it in the back of haley's truck, seeing as a bike rack for my car is more rare than halley's comet.

we get home and luke jumps on his bike for a ride around the neighborhood. after about ten minutes todd says, 'where do you think luke is? he's been gone a long time.' glance down the road and see him pushing the bike. somehow the chain is majorly derailed and despite my best efforts i can't get it back together.

doing the math: ebay bike, bike rack, luke's bike. what next?

for what it's worth, the hippie is going to fix luke's bike tomorrow. and i plan to lay into the owner of the bike rack bike shop at my first opportunity. and as for mr. ebay... well, i won't be doing business with him anymore. and if my feedback has anything to do with it, nobody else will be either.

so, yes.. there right outside the wire cage i know is a sunny sky. a trail waiting to be explored. a breeze. an oasis.

if i can just get out of this damn cage.

d: four bikes that work and a way to transport them. or at least three of them.
b: umm.
g: getting closer. getting closer. i think.

smuggle

mega has taken to crawling under my bed. she just tonight discovered she can fit under there. another place to take the forbidden items she smuggles off to consume, i suppose.

i like the word smuggle, in fact. it's the softer, gentler version of mug. the rumor in the family is that my paternal grandfather was a diamond smuggler for some time while they lived in paris, after the war. we don't know the details, the only information passed along was cryptic and the private investigators hired by the family had a difficult time filling in the gaps. i like to think it's true though.

mostly because of the word smuggle. a clear marriage of mug and snug. with an le thrown in there to up the cute factor.

consider on the other hand the word kidnap. two things that don't go together - and if they do, by chance, it's a happy moment. i imagine that nap is meant to bring to mind nab.. but let's face it, it's a crummy attempt at linguistic creativity.

i think i'd rather be smuggled. stolen away surreptitiously. it sounds like fun. i think if kidnappers rebranded themselves as smugglers they could build their image. i mean, if cadillac can rebrand themselves as young and hip (see: escalade) anyone can do it.

yes, you heard it here first. kidnappers, take heed. call yourselves smugglers. choose tropical destinations. maybe even offer some pirate ship tours to your detainees.

smuggle-cations. coming soon from a henchman near you.

d: sleep. clearly i've lost my mind.
b: a smuggler in the family! a diamond smuggler at that.
g: mega's new hideaway for her bones isn't underfoot.

spark

there are few things in the homeowner's to-do list as satisfying as replacing a lawnmower's spark plug. i'm not sure if it's the $2.25 price tag or the simplicity or the immediate gratification; but whatever it is, i like it. i vote for more repairs of that caliber please.

i wish i had a repair that simple when my engine refuses to crank. it's rare these days, more often i simply need a tank of fuel, but particularly when it comes to creativity i find myself at times wishing i had a spark.

it hasn't been quite a year, but it will be soon, since i felt the burning desire to write fiction. i was on a roll last summer writing. writing daily. writing creatively. writing with a spark. and then... my creative energy was redirected. primarily to being a dog-owner. maybe it's not fair to blame mega, because it's inevitable that something would have come along and interrupted my flow. but she is the culprit, precious edible culprit that she is, this time.

but, anyway, this weekend haley and i took an impromptu camping trip. we had a destination in mind, but were derailed by the georgia power signs throughout the campground. (yes, literally. ironic, perhaps. repulsive, definitely.) after a couple of thwarted efforts, we stumbled upon the most pristine and tremendous campsite ever. seriously, it may be the best campsite i've ever seen outside of a backpacking adventure.

a ten minute walk down a fairly steep trail, after a twenty minute drive on a treacherous dirt road, culminated in a grove of trees alongside a river. a huge river. a beautiful clear river. a huge, beautiful clear river with a white sandy beach. that's right a beach. a beach in the mountains. and not another soul in sight.

spark

we had no idea we'd wind up somewhere so primitive. or so amazing. and honestly, it caught us off guard. we did our best to enjoy it, but spent most of our time daydreaming about when we can go back and how we'll do it better. (ie backpacks and adequate supplies to allow continuous relaxation and prevent excessive travel out of this slice of heaven.)

i did build us a fire though and cook a delicious meal. i love cooking over a campfire. i love a campfire period, actually. and one of the reasons is that i love fire. the principal of combustion and the rush of watching the first sparks ignite the hemlock and then the twigs and then the knobby sticks and eventually the thick coal-making logs... yes, i love a campfire.

spark

yesterday i finally got a mountain bike. i say 'finally' though i've only been looking a couple of weeks. those weeks felt like an eternity, they really did. i had several failed attempts at purchase. i gave craigslist a shot. (or a dozen shots) i gave ebay a shot (still trying to resolve that shot). i gave pawn shops and used sporting goods stores a shot. and i visited every single bike shop in the metro area. and then i wound up in the burbs. so, yes, it felt like a journey from desire to manifestation; but in the end i got exactly what i wanted and i got an amazing deal on it.

today the boys and i went riding. luke still needs a bike, actually, but rode an old junker we had around. which sort of impaired his first experience off-road, to be honest. he's game for another round though, when i find him a bike that can handle it. todd, on the other hand, got bitten. bitten by the mountain biking bug. he loved it. we zoomed all over two different parks and would have ridden longer if the day had allowed it.

spark

tomorrow i'm going to north carolina to visit my dad. the boys and i don't get up there often enough. it's one of the most relaxing trips we ever take and yet we don't take the time to do it like we should. i can't wait. a hammock and a fireplace - whether we get spring or winter remains to be seen - both places i find immeasurably rejuvenating.

this time todd and i are bringing our bikes.

spark spark

i just finished reading a novel. a novel that i gave my mom for christmas and she returned to me after finishing. we usually do this so that we can confer at the end. it was by one of our favorite authors but turned out to be a disappointing read. nonetheless, the writing was beautiful and the imagery vivid. and something about reading fiction.. it flips a switch in me..

spark

i'm not sure when i'll start writing on my novel again, but i think it's coming soon. the sparks are multiplying.. and soon, fire.

d: more sparks and more sparks and more sparks...
b: i fixed the lawnmower
g: sparks lead to fire...