#37

i flew into las vegas the day after mom's aneurysm.

it was life interrupted in the house. her purse was on the kitchen table, her lipstick out.

she wasn't planning on never coming home.

mom was planning the first christmas that suzanne & ben would be joining us. she had a three page to-do list.

each item was numbered. each item made sense, like 'pressure wash the deck.'

except #37.

'#37- mail molly's package. '

no one knows anything about the package.

i feel like the kid from 'extremely loud and incredibly close' searching for the lock to go to his father's key.

late at night, tonight, i'm thinking about #37.

courage and grace, these are my prayers

mom died on 11/3. it's been almost three weeks.

i am tired and sad. most of the time right now. i am in touch with dad, and suzanne and mike and jim. but, it was better when we were in person. somehow, the five of us together, at home, kept her close. i feel far away now that i am back in my own home.

it's been three weeks, and i should be finishing up thank you notes, but i haven't even started them. this is mostly because i just haven't gotten to them, i don't know what to say. i am so grateful for everyone, more than i have ever been. i am so blessed. but, then, i realized that mom ordered all the stationery for all of us. and i have run out of mine. one of the last things i asked her for was more, even though i know the order by heart.

while i am tired and sad, i still find love all around me. maybe even more so than before.

i will continue to work towards courage and grace.

all about love

i have a tendency to be objective based. wandering can be nice, but i do better with a purpose, even if not always a destination.

since i was a kid, i have always had working missions. they've evolved from learning to fly as a kid, to creating queer spaces as an adult. though, i have an itch to fly again. when i was a kid, i raced hot air balloons. races require a minimum of three people in a basket. this is usually comprised of one adult and two kids, to keep weight at a minimum. my dad and grandfather were pilots. i grew up around flight. my favorite kind of flights were hot air balloons and gliders. i had a thing for no engines.

in the past year, i adopted a mission to find love. in all it's forms. i wanted to stretch my definition of love past the limited romantic boundaries i had set around it. i loved my parents, i loved my friends. but somehow, that didn't count for me as love. only romantic-in-love-love counted as love. it was, in fact, a kind of score sheet i kept.

i had been mostly single for three years already. i had dated a little. had a couple of girlfriends. but no one who required a conversation prior to making choices like, buying a car.

i had been cutting down on my love addiction for a few years. i wasn't ready to go cold turkey, but i wasn't going on any benders, either.

next step- really get to know love. how it works. why it works. know where i could find it, even the surprising places. start seeing it for more than what i held it to be.

in order to do that, i decided to start dating as a way of getting to know people. rather than as a way to start a relationship. i even made a surrender pact with a friend. i would surrender to the universe. if someone asked me on a date, as long it didn't cross any of my actual boundaries, i had to say yes. i couldn't hem and haw and flake out. and i did give in to it. it was good.

i wrote a relationship manifesto. i wrote choose your own adventure posts on craigslist and called them writing assignments. i dated. i really liked everyone i dated. but no girlfriends. i began to think i would never choose a girlfriend. that being said, i did get a little flakey on the surrender front when work picked up.

but another funny thing happened. i began thinking about love when i was happy. when i was angry. when i was lonely. it started as a word, and then it grew. to a concept. to a philosophy. to a feeling. to a commitment. i found myself taking care of things. in a joyful way. i got to know people. in ways i never had before. and i loved them the more i got to know them, especially when realizing our differences. and i stopped listening to jawbreaker so much. well, at least i cut down considerably. and ryan adams was out.

the funny thing- i found myself thankful for so many things. i found myself breathing more. deeper. i found myself calmer. and happier. i found myself doing more. for myself. for others. for my community. i found myself less scared. i stopped holding my breath when i walked past the parking lot where i was assaulted four years ago. i started laughing more. from my core. how was i possibly falling in love for so long without laughing and breathing?

i found myself expecting great things. and they happened. and they keep happening. i wanna do cartwheels in the street most days. i want to dance.

i find love everywhere. my heart throws sparks most of the time.

part of this mission to find love meant separating myself from my bender romantic notions. i miss them, i do.

and sometimes i'm still lonely. part of that love business meant being on my own more.

of course i haven't given up on the deeper than the river, dancing in the kitchen at the end of the night love. one of these days, i'm going to find myself laughing and breathing and surrendering in just the right ways to that slow, steady, even though i may have had a clue at first glance romantic love. with maybe a few big nights on the town, but no more love benders or hangovers. i really do believe i will find not a girl, but the right girl. just not tomorrow. i'm not naive enough to think i've got all the answers. in many ways, falling in love will be a completely new exercise for me. it will challenge me in ways i never before recognized. but as jess put it, 'doyle, you're smart enough to know it's worth the work. and you'll know when it's right." and he's right.

we'll see what happens. but i'm expecting great things. and anyway, i found more love than i even know what to do with most days. which gives me a lot of work to do. i've barely scratched the surface of this love business.

love and gratitude

i don't know how we got onto the subject, but we started talking about the power of positive thoughts last night.

of course, i thought of glen, and his ability to orate, in a non-stop loop, about the power of positive thinking. while this autistic presentation of constant cadence bore hard on others, i looked forward to working with glen for a few hours every week. listening to the words, 'and that's the power of positive thinking' every fifth sentence always left me beaming. of course, all of our conversations were monologues, with a little tap on my shoulder every now and then to let me know he knew i was still listening. they were also peppered with a running tally of the number of gmc trucks that had passed in the last hour, day, week.

the conversations were also full of glen's hopes for family, college, work and a gmc truck of his own. but, it was more than hope, it was confidence. glen had no doubt that if he thought positively about things, for long enough, with equal parts gratitude for what had been given to him in life, all his hopes would manifest true.

enter last night's conversation. there is a book called 'the miracle of water.' it's a photo study of water molecules that have been exposed to positive or negative energy, then frozen to form crystals. the results are compelling.

the crystals exposed to negative thoughts are fractured, and chaotic, while the crystals exposed to positive thoughts are not. the work is far more intensive, working on large bodies of water, then the effects of drinking 'positive' water, and so on.

here's the hook- the two thoughts given to the positive crystals- love and gratitude.

the results

my 30 day surrender pact is up.

here's what happened-

i learned that i need to ask and work for what i want, not just be happy with all that is offered.

i mean, by all means, be happy for the offerings! and... i need to work a little more on being less passive.

part of being open meant releasing- sometimes releasing hope, sometimes releasing nonsense. i had to release the notion that my friends can fulfill all of my relationship needs. summer and michelle are off being blissed out with others, and i realized how much stock i was putting in all of us being single for a while.

i met some folks. went out with some folks. will be going out again with some folks. its been great.

here's my task list-

• find my footing.
• stop accepting nonsense from folks. better opportunites will come. even if they don't, it's better than nonsense.
• stop waiting for folks to initiate everything, no matter what the stakes or arena or intent. get to know the woman i've wanted to get to know for three months. oh, and stop looking away every time she talks to me. or when she's so kindly introducing me to everyone at knitting group.
• keep working on this releasing business.

the last thing i learned- as much as i want a relationship, as much as the lonelies can tackle me when i'm with my friends, all of whom are now coupled, it's just not something i can jump right into.

oh wait, the real last thing- i owe a lot to surrender. i'm gonna keep it in my back pocket.

i believe in falling down.

i believe in falling down. and standing back up.

the trick, though, is not taking anyone down with you. turns out, you can't brush the hurt off someone else. i know better.

i got this letter last night. it was an amazing letter. made me feel so good, it hurt. thank you mr. davis.

i feel muddled today. a couple of weeks ago, i wrote my own letter. and submitted it to the universe. and i got the response i didn't think possible. but it threw me off. and while i don't love leaving anymore, it's still the groove worn in my path. and i totally fell over in it.

hey there mrs. lovely by ryan adams

Hey There Mrs. Lovely

Well girl sometimes I feel just a boy
Put here on the earth for you to toy round with
I'm the plastic 3-inch armies you destroy
I'm the monster under neath your bed y'ain't afraid of yet

She let me in
And I feel all right
Yeah I feel all right

Hey there Mrs. Lovely are you coming out to play
I've been stranded on your door step every night and day
And I want you so bad but when you cry I get scared
Wanna dry your eyes with cinnamon and pears

You used to only want your two front teeth
But Christmas time it came it went, you ended up with me
And we started playing Twister with our tongues
We probably should have scrapped the game and gave ourselves some hugs

And I toy with you
And you toy with me
Can you stop this shit please?

Hey there Mrs. Lovely are you coming out to play
I've been stranded on your door step every night and day
And I want you so bad but when you cry I get scared
Wanna dry your eyes with cinnamon and pears
And pears
And pills
And pills

up until recently, i thought this was an accurate love song. what the fuck was wrong with me? the good news? i get to take the cinnamon and pears bit, because it's good. but, the rest, i'm done with.

dammit. i wish standing back up were enough.

fence

i'm getting a fence. i'm really happy to be getting this fence. it means less stress for me. and more playdates for annie.

thinking about fences naturally leads me to boundaries. which have also been on my mind a lot. well, boundaries and vulnerability.

turns out, it's really easy to be stable; when i avoid any sort of vulnerability. now that i'm putting effort into my relationships, it's clobbering me.

i met a girl. i really liked her. i went to pick her up. at the train station. which, of course, lent itself to a 'sweet avenue' reference. she was foxy. and then some. and i turned off. because liking her made me uncomfortable. remember when liking someone made you feel good? now, it makes me feel scared. and insecure. and i present all the parts of me that i don't even like. i was, officially, a tool. because if i reject myself first, then it is somehow better. at least i'm not an asshole anymore, i'm just a tool. because i've never done this sober. i've never actually really been vulnerable to someone when i was sober. i'm not dry. i drink. but i'm not constantly manic or hammered anymore.

so, no second date for us. i was hoping she'd hang in there, until i found my pace.

and maybe it wasn't because i was a tool. maybe i'm stinky. or we're just not a match. but, the whole time, all i wanted to do was say, 'i really like you. i hope you're patient. because i'm pretty sure it's gonna pay off. i only get this way when i really, really want something. and when i think it could actually work.'

but, i didn't say that. instead i sort of knocked her in the chin with my shoulder, as she leaned over to kiss my cheek, the way that i do when i'm awkward.