Leaving Liverpool

It was one year ago that the movers placed the last box of my belongings into the truck and drove away. I left the only place I had ever remembered calling home to start a new chapter in my life. It wasn't a thought I had embraced at first but it became painfully obvious that I needed to move. Movement is essential in life and I had been stagnant for far too long. I had been complacent over time and settled in the fabric of my life even when I had outgrown the garments of self. Perhaps this is a byproduct of being an introvert. Or maybe it was because of fear. Whatever the case, this move meant so much more than a move. It was an opportunity to show myself that I could exist outside of what I knew to be reality. For the first time as an adult, I gave myself permission to be responsibly selfish and to focus on the things I wanted without regard for anyone else's feelings.

Unbeknownst to me during this process, I planted a seed of happiness that grew wildly out of control.
I've learned so much in a one year. From small things like how-to-stay-on-your-Super's-good-side to the simple joy of being alone in your own space. The most important lesson though, is that movement is now a welcomed change in my life.

Today, I am thankful for the ability to move.

Really Real

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When someone loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

Today, I am thankful for the realness of every single one of life's moments.

For the First Time

Every so often my life has a way of reinventing itself. The process includes a catastrophic end to some old habits and a refreshingly forceful embrace to some new ones. And being a creature of habit and comfort, these moments of evolution feel like everything is turned upside-down and I'll never be able to right myself again. But I always do, always. And this time on the other side of the upheaval and questions and darkness I found real, honest, happiness of a new sort. And I feel like a child again. I am so grateful and wide-eyed and happy. I am grateful for the journey...I am open to all things to come... and I am happy.

Today, I am thankful for all the new 'firsts' that have filled my life for the last few weeks.

Life And Death

I was on my way to work on a day where emotions were as thick as the haze and humidity. It's September 11th, 2013. And for reasons too numerous to begin, I won't say anymore about that. I was almost at the subway station when I received a text from my mother. It read "Good morning sweetheart. Did you hear that **** died last night?" I stopped moving and stared at the screen... Shock... He died!?... Relief... But how?!... Curiosity.

Before I go any further I should fill you in on who this person is hidden behind the asterisks. He was the youngest of 5 boys. He dropped out of high school and never became much of anything. Always blaming others for the way he was; it was his brothers fault for his disinterest in school because they never helped him fit in or study. It was his parents fault for his childhood and adult obesity and subsequent conditions. It was the city's fault for his consistent unemployment. No, he was never one to take responsibility for himself. This was true even when we showed him irrefutable evidence that he was responsible for committing crimes against my family. I chose not to use his name because it really doesn't matter what his name is. What matters is the story.

Although I was initially shocked at his passing, (He was young by most standards, 45...usually scummy good-for-nothing types live forever) I was kind of relieved I'd never have to run into him around town ever again. And for that, I feel slight guilt. This guilt has followed me around all day in the muck of the heat and heavy sadness that looms over this city every year in early September. 

I spoke to a friend and she said that I shouldn't feel guilty because he was the one who had done something wrong. And the fact that I even felt guilty at all meant I wasn't as indifferent as I thought because I'm kind of incapable of being indifferent to anyone, even him. 

This guy was scum. He was pathetic. He was a waste of everything life had to offer. But he was someone's son and brother. And his passing is something I will think about over the next few days. And perhaps he will be of more service in death than in life.

Today, I'm thankful for the lessons. 

Coming Back

Like a baby animal stumbling to stand before it discovers its natural gait, we all go through periods in our lives where instinct, necessity and reality don't all seem that they can exist at once. I've been away from this place for over a year. There were moments when I thought I'd never come back. That it was all too much of an uphill battle and that I didn't have it in me to try so hard even though I really wanted this. Your constant questions about my relaunch gave me hope. Your support gave me inspiration and throughout this journey, I discovered  a new strength, new lessons and a new yearning. And so, here I am. I am back! Thank you for never letting me forget the joys of writing freely.

Today, I am thankful for this place.