i am blogging at night because tomorrow and for the next three days, i will be in school early and for many hours. spent the day feeling all the uncomfortable feelings that emerged due to triggers yesterday. watched the stories of pain waft through my mind like clouds through a stormy sky. felt my chest ache and insecurity sizzle through my blood. read for school, worked on my genogram chart, ran long and hard, ate a ton of spinach, confessed my real “how are you” answer to baristas who were oh so kind. it’s one of those days i appreciate the hill. i appreciate each pair of eyes i look into, who care about me, and i wonder….why? i appreciate elliot bay books and the cafe in the back, where i can get a lot of work done, and listen in on conversations. when i walked by the real change paper sellers, the homeless men, i felt an ache in my heart. not pity, but empathy. i wanted them to feel cherished, even though i did not show i cherished them. i guess i was transferring my feelings into them and bringing their feelings into mine. the intimacy of symbiosis…without a tangible act. gotta work on that. i thought about my dear friend and how our connecting is constantly shifting. there’s something to this. you know what’s interesting to me? how every objective interaction, has a set of stories that gravitate around it, like moons from each person in it. one story may be that i am a caged tiger eating what is thrown my way. another story is how i get close to amazing souls who undress my heart, dredging up creatures from the swamp that need release. yet another story, is that by being fully present, there is no need for labels, no reason for possession. i cherish my connections, always deep and bittersweet, filled with words, laughter, and creativity. i see the many stories that swirl around every situation with every person i meet. none of them stick. what sticks? the feelings stick for a bit. but as i learn to feel them all the way through, without judgement, i am watching feelings unstick like unglue. what sticks? love, that’s what. i admit, loving is easy for me. knowing i am love is easy for me. the masochistic stories i inherited from my bloodline and past lives, that turned into shadowy romances or diagnostic hinderances…they come and go (speaking of michelangelo). i feel love for my apartment tonight. ruby gifted me a most awesome chair, for my desk. with cushion and flowers, i can sit here for hours now. which i need to do. i can also turn around and paint. a perfect work room. in the other room i have my bed and couch, perfect for all that stuff. my view of the city has become a lover. how many evenings have i laid on the couch and watched the sky, speaking with it…how many time i have watched the glittering buildings lit up at night, winking. i appreciate this apartment for all of her worth, and when i leave, she will burn in my memory banks brighter than the many many others. so many apartments in so many cities, pitching tents like a gypsy. i could go on, gushing with love as appreciation sizzles through my blood, seizing my brain, watering into dissolution, all insecurity and dark narcissism…taking life serious and not taking it serious. and both. life is my true love.