frost's disappointment

it never even occurred to me to make a resolution this new year.  sure, there are things i'd like to do differently (eating a bit healthier (not that i'm a terribly unhealthy eater, but i could use a few more fruits and veggies), being a bit more patient with my husband (it's really hard to live with a child in an adult-sized body), working out a little more, and writing a lot more), but committing to such things in resolution form...it's just more of a commitment than i can make right now.

the writing thing, though...i really, really, really want to write more.  i feel like i can't seem to find my voice.  i mean, i have lots of mommy tales to tell.  i have lots of political rants in my head.  but i can't find the inclination to put them into words.  wtf!?  it seems like it all went to shit when i left los angeles.  is it because i left my voice on the music box steps?  i've thought about changing the name of my blog, or perhaps starting another, but i would really rather find another way to unleash my muse because 'notes from the music box steps' feels such a part of me.

or maybe it's just my way of hanging onto the life i left behind???

i miss los angeles every single day (especially in the winter).  i miss the random smell of jasmine in the air.  i miss my friends.  i miss my bumpy road, 4100, dusty's, and that it never got cold.  i miss my deck, schneider, and living on the music box steps.  and while there are certainly things i really love about my new life, i'm starting to worry that i intentionally chose the road most travelled, and that maybe, just maybe, it's made all the wrong difference...

~k

what if

i think "what if" is a question we've all asked. probably more than once. some of us wonder, others dwell, sometimes in and out of heartbreak and sometimes just because. sometimes out of curiosity, others out of regret, but it's one of those questions in life we can't help but ask from time to time.

i've asked a lot this week past. my dearest little kbd, hot off the midterm campaign trail, has been staying with me since my birthday. with her comes memories of the greatest adventure of my life (so far), obama's campaign trail. i started in texas, met my little kbd in indiana, followed her to south dakota, gave her refuge on the music box steps whilst awaiting her general orders, and watched her leave for florida when that call came.

so, what if? what if, instead of watching her leave for florida, i had followed her there?

i would have given up my music box steps and a six-figure salary to go earn peanuts and live with strangers in orlando. i like to fancy that i'd've been her regional deputy field director, though i may've been a field organizer (with my golden pick of turf). i would have won, and won many accolades doing so, and knowing me, i'd've followed them north to washington, where i would have couch surfed whilst banging on doors and pounding pavement so's to land myself a gig in the president's administration. and i would have.

my last two years would have been very different than they have been. they would have been mired in uncertainty, adventure, and semi-organized chaos. i would have a white house stamp on my resume instead of that of a private-sector director. i would be well on my way to becoming a washington insider, and hating it as much as i do as a washington outsider wanting to stay that way.

i would pretty much be right where i am (though living in a much less lush apartment). i would still have been in zip's wedding in chicago this past june, and i would still be in the throes of the life-changing love affair that started that weekend. and i would still be clawing my way out of this wretchedly douchey city.

so whilst i've no doubt the path would have been much different, i'd still have made my way to this place. for once in my life, it seems i may've chosen the easier path, fraught with fewer gray hairs and wrinkles (thank goodness!) and a much better resume for my next job search. i'm not saying it stops me from thinking about how much fun that other path might have been, how rewarding, how adventurous, and how exciting. but there is some comfort in knowing that i still made it to the place i'm meant to be, and to the person i'm meant to be with.

i guess in asking what if and circling about the possibilities, i've discovered that though i may have chosen the path, the destination was always here, just waiting for me to arrive.

~k

vii movement

for those of you unfamiliar with the wiley ways of the supernatural, the above is a reference to a tarot card: a major arcana card representing transition into the next phase of life. what the eff you may be asking yourselves...

i went to see a psychic tonight. i'm forever curious about those who claim vision into the beyond, and i'm hyper critical to and perhaps even "closed off" to their words of wisdom. the one i met tonight made grand claims to my inability to move forward in life, said i was stuck, unable to feel, and confined to numbness. i listened to her reasons and revealed nothing in my actions, words, and expressions. i wanted her to move onward and speak from beyond without my help.

and she failed. she failed to see me. sure, she made claims about past failed loves (not any dissimilar from a failed love any of us could claim), talked about the frustrations of my career (so generically that any of us could have had the same reading), and spoke of other generalities that mean nothing upon reflection.

and then, after telling me that i'm so closed off she can't read me, offered to clear my chakras for $700.

so why do i write of her, you might ask. because she made me stop, think, reflect, wonder, and question my life and future. so much so that i called my mommy for some perspective (for the sake of full disclosure, my mommy is a reiki master who can guage and massage my chakras from a thousand miles away).

and then i pulled a tarot card (for full disclosure, i've been reading tarot since i was in college and charged $5 per reading for my fellow dorm-mates who came back often and brought friends). the tarot card i pulled was "movement" which spoke of a period of transition in my life. it is a major arcana card that depicts a slow and steady movement into a new phase in my life.

for those of you who read my bullshit often, you know i am transitioning. you know that my love for DC is gradually turning to hate (more on this later), and that my desire to live in the fast lane is surely being replaced by my desire to be a wife, a mom, and a person _living_ instead of working.

so, after my crazy day, i think i can safely turn in tonight knowing that my mom's got my chakras, and that i've got me covered safely, sanely, and solely. and that i'm as far from closed off to life, love, and the pursuit of happiness as sayyid qutb isn't...

~k

a prophecy unrealized

the dictionary defines fate as:

1. something that unavoidably befalls a person; fortune; lot.
2. the universal principle or ultimate agency by which the order of things is presumably prescribed; the decreed cause of events; time.
3. that which is inevitably predetermined; destiny.
4. a prophetic declaration of what must be.

fate is one of the most often pondered questions of my life. it's the theme of my first novel, the source of my fascination with religion, and my biggest draw to LOST.

i long ago gave up a belief in coincidence, choosing instead to find the serendipitous miracle in what others view as mere chance. i'm not wired to believe in mere chance. and i'm grateful for that, because having eyes that see miracles every day means i can and do appreciate the little things.

but it doesn't mean i don't think about it, wonder about the role of fate in our lives, and how much choice we have. i can't not believe we don't make choices, because my life has been defined by one hard fought choice after another. but i also believe i have been guided by something powerful that i've chosen to follow, something others choose to ignore. i believe in the infinite power of me, that i'm limited only by the diminutive confines of my imagination, and that i can be all that i can imagine, and i listen to that voice in my head that says, "yes you can".

and i believe all of this because i believe the universe and i have a great relationship, that we conspire for and with one another, because our conspiracy makes the world a better place. and that "coincidences" (things like randomly bumping into an old friend in an off-beat watering hole in san francisco, being sent to bar hemingway by my pitafo, or meeting someone for the first time you just know - somewhere in the pit of your gut - you've somewhere or somehow known before) are signs, pointing us in the right direction.

miracles, if you will.

and though my story has only really just begun to be written, with an end i've no doubt can be found somewhere in the stars, it will only be as extraordinary as the choices i make each day to follow or ignore those little miracles the universe conspires to share.

~k