relaxed, free, with room to grow

Two friends wrote me today about how happy they've been this last week and this holiday weekend.

It's a notable coincidence because both put extra effort into describing their feelings and both momentarily skipped at the whys and wherefores for a second (one briefly wondering if it was a 'mania') but then concluded of the mysteries: they were just so, and worthy of making note, is all. "Remarkable", we say.

"Blissful" said one, "glorious" said the other. Both wished me the same.

New heart-memories! Is what they have, I think. I've been sick, but I will remember this week and holiday with a certain relish also. TV was dull and good, like this Bonanza marathon. I didn't have to pay attention, the plots are comic bookish, in fact it was a lot like going through my old comic books!

I'd glance over at the TV if Little Joe was being told to get out of the barbers chair or get shot. Watch to see whether he'd comply. (He did.)

And my fever dreams weren't like a visit from Ba‘al Zebûb. Not even the one where there were leopards lounging in our back yard, and I got pinned down by two...I didn't frak out. ('Remain calm. Now do I make a loud, sustained noise, or do I play dead? I don't believe these two actually want to eat me, but maybe I should protect my neck...')

There will be a food association to spark the heart-memory of these last few days, too. I've been eating cherry pies that two other friends brought me (goes back to my Seroquel story, I suppose, these little cherry pies).

Also, the puppy racing in and out of here all the time, I'll remember her and her antics. (She's getting big, and tried to jump from the back of the love seat into my lap while I was sitting here in my swivel chair; she nearly belly flopped and changed her mind in mid-air. Recovered with a shrug, no exaggerated dignity.)

Here she is now, growing fast.




Named Indigo, called Indy, Little Twerp, Little Dog, Don't Bite, Stop Biting Dammit, and a few other names since we are seven or eight people in this dorter. Indigo is K.B.'s dog, he is the leader of the pack, he explains.

I've never known a grown man to need a dog as bad as K.B. did. He'd had his pal "Ari" for almost ten years while he was tramping the country and hopping frieghts. They got seperated when he hit his low point and left Ari with an aquaintence. Ari was old though...Then the aquainance either adopted him out or put him down. K.B. will never know, sadly.

I have so many new people in my life now also, in the last year, (including my pencil-pal, Anonydoc, who still thinks it's been longer than that, probably because I remind her a little bit of work. Haha!) I wrote her a list of leading players yesterday so she can keep track of the women I think I'm in love with. I think I'll need to refer back to the list too, sometimes.

Plus, two friends came back this year, after my getting cornered into Recovery.

The AA friend I mentioned, who wrote about her happiness, spent this day with problematic relatives, visiting and decorating her grandparents' graves. She enjoyed a day she'd learned to dread all these years, and recieved a perplexing compliment from one relative she's admired.

My other friend was deep in study-mode (during a beach vacation with her growing family of high achievers.) She shared what she was reading with them (the subject of her studies being psychology, psychiatry, neurology, human nature, Ripley's Believe it or Not stuff I bet) and it sounds like they all had a lot of laughs.

I don't know what I'm writing about here. I'm feeling grateful by proximity, and hopeful in my own right lately. Makes me think of our living god, and fate, and the perfect ending of every equation in His universe. "Fate" is only in retrospect, after the " = " sign, but there's a degree of assurance when we have faith, and keep doing the right thing, like making our beds and showing up for work each day.

Gee. It's not even the holiday yet. It's late and I'm writing too much, about to get philosophical.

Thanks for visiting!