As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler; solitude will not be solitude, poverty will not be poverty, nor weakness weakness. Henry David Thoreau

Its quiet in this moment, save for the tic tic tic of the solar penguin toy statue, dancing in its place in the sun. I'm thankful for the dancing toy , because the quiet would be deafening otherwise.

My house is pretty, and filled with my sense of style..collected through the years within the budget we were living within.  Even now, I add things to what is now just my place, quietly and with thoughtful repose.  I don't like to collect mindless things, for me, each every little acquisition has a soul; a rightful place where it wishes to occupy in my space.  The sun streams in through the large windows, onto the leather chair, or the crystal vase from my mom.  They stand still, these items, like a snapshot frozen in time.  They hold life and purpose, past, present, and future.  Even the big dinosaur of a television, this outdated but great Sony reminds me not just what is seen on its 40inch face but rather, my mind's eye sees my Mom and Dad watching into its very countenance somewhere in their old home so long ago.

The memory of my life is held together by the things left behind.  Mom, Dad gone, husband not only gone but replaced but an angry and bitter visage.  Frightening, unmerciful.  A sister who pops in every few weeks for only a moment to affirm I am still alive, but not much else. She has her own life.

My kids are the <<ON>> button of my life now.  The"important" life.  As soon as they enter, life begins.  As they exit to go to their dads, my life becomes held in repose.  My work, my friends,  my relaxation here even now as I type on this Ipad serve to fill the span of time they are away. Quickly and with ease.  But my life feels held back, quiet.  No companion to speak of, no assurance of any forthcoming..none that I want just now.

Is this healing?  A stack of papers sit beside me ready to be corrected.  A sleepy somberness pulls me over...and tic tic tic goes that penguin. Dinner is done for tomorrow, as are the children's school lunches.  

Am I left behind, or am I now  forced to look inside who I am, and where I stand now.  Is this God's infinite message for me? Stand tall , fear not or else experience that which you do fear and learn.  Courage is only formed when knowledge of the consequences of our demon's actions come to light.  Their fruit for me, has been to be left alone.  Loneliness.  And it exists now.  But look, the time for my kids return looms and those papers still await.  The anger that he spewed remains outside on my door step, but not within my home.  The fear of my belly is still warming, but no longer cancerous..just a slight case of fear indigestion.  My faith in myself has grown. My knowledge that I can handle that which I never did.  How to do plumbing, or handyman work, or finances (which in fairness I always did). To hold a job that pays really well that will likely have to suffice sooner than not because in his great predictable behavior-- I anticipate his need to try to cause more pain by reducing his support to nothing...tic tic tic it is only a matter of time.  And it will roll off me, annoying, legally embroiling but  not heart-devastating..not anymore.  I want somebody to love, and that has been pulled from me externally.  Even a furry pet is off limits for now, because of my kids allergies.  So God wills that I look within, HARD.  No substitutes will do, save for loving my children, myself, and God. Tic tic tic.

The Rose

I rebel a little against the jaded counterpoint that exists now.  As Valentines Day is tomorrow, I think of the flowers I used to receive from my love, partner. husband.  I love roses, the smell, the elegant simplicity. Don't kill the messenger (dear rose) for the insidiousness of the giver. He used to give me a dozen roses every year we dated, until we got married and I was privy to the big credit card debt that they had created (therein lied the first clue of our differences in financial philosophies). But still, they are still pretty. A rose is a rose, you know? I pray for the diminishment of all the negative connotations that are linked to every little thing just because of the selfish actions of another. The creation of beauty (the beauty of nature: rose, a lake, a sunset), the end of a great workday (whereas how it used to be before?), the pleasant warmth from spending times with married friends (who may be rejoicing in having a baby or anniversary; hesitant looks passed towards us underscoring that feeling of "being different" within ourselves). Sometimes things just are: beautiful unto itself. And having said that: I look for that special gentleness too, from a sweetheart who will know the strength of that quiet and kind caress. Our knowledge and strength may lead us there more wisely (or not), but the beauty remains.