The Way Back is Forward
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| Bubbles: 2 year old magic |
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| Airplane snoozes and messy hair |
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| First train ride, in NYC no less |
I met Connecticut artist Randy Lagana in another chapter of my time. Don't we all have so many lifetimes in a lifetime? I was working as a designer in the tile industry. Randy came in with his Lady Love Jen working on some home improvement stuff. Turns out he is an amazing artist in several arenas, two of which are photography and acrylic painting.
I asked Randy if he would
be interested in doing a shoot with me as a model, as long as I got a
set of the prints. He agreed. The morning of, I felt antsy. It
increased a bit once in his presence. I just wanted to rip off the
bandaid and get to the naked part. I am a nurse, will hang out on
the occasional nude beach, not terribly shy. But it felt a little
intimate undressing for one person. An artist with an eye for
beauty. I was middle aged and had birthed 20 months ago. I was
looking for me.
And he showed me. My
dress came off in front of a canvas backdrop on his back deck. He
put on some music, I began to move and flow, and he began to shoot.
Props and ideas quickly changed and morphed, creativity happened. A
few hours after we parted ways, he started texting me images of the
morning's work. Within the first four or so images he sent was the
one that mattered most to me. The “I can't believe that's me”
photo. By showing me myself through his eyes, something shifted for
me. I knew then that I was still a beautiful sexual being worthy of
love, and that my value and desirability are in no way connected to
anybody's want or opinion of me. Sounds logical, but it's a big one
for those that don't know it yet.
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| Not "the photo," but one that is nude without naked |
I turn towards 2019 with
an eye to curating more of my own happiness. A big piece of that is
letting go of fear. I am missing out on enjoying myself, my son, for
catastrophizing every moment. Adult residue of a childhood with an
always partially to fully floored fight or flight response. Working
on that. EMDR helps. I want a beautiful inside. A place I can
(breathe...relax...be...)
I got a good look at
myself last night. My anxiety robs me of enjoying myself and makes
me unenjoyable to be around. Duncan treated the three of us to an
outdoor Blues concert last night, Willie K and friends. Willie is a
Hawaiian musical legend, and currently battling lung cancer that has
metastasized to his bones. Ever try to keep a 2 year old in a seat?
Can not be done without duct tape or a chloroform soaked rag. Duncan
and I were in various stages of managing the Logan Issue – some
him, some me, some us. Duncan has a follow-from-a-distance policy –
with the confidence to know he can keep him safe, and I am ready to
catch the boy as he climbs on the cement and metal rail structures or
runs full tilt into the port a potty corner against the flow of
exiting people. When I do grab Logan up, it causes him to go
boneless and cry, me to get frustrated and then I have to hand the
boy over to his dad... And round we go.
Never in the history of
relaxing has anyone ever relaxed by being told to relax. But I need
to. Being in shape doesn't mean much if you're a wreck on the
inside. I have recently started taking a free gentle yoga class for
cancer survivors on Saturday mornings. The first class I attended
was 4 or so students. The Goddess of an instructor led us into our
opening moments by having us check in with where we were and what we
were thinking about. No problem! Then she added “do it without
judgment.” The last instruction was slid in so casually, almost
like an afterthought. It was as if I was alone on a walk, and
suddenly looked up and realized there had been a friend walking with
me all along. Something about this made me crumple. Like, take the
outer workout shirt off and use it as a hanky level crumpling. Not
subtle little eye dabs but full out honking nose blowing. I knew I
had to keep attending. The love and support shared in this intimate
and ever-shifting group is carried in my chest. Powerful things
happen when women gather. Mothers and sisters, hold each other up.
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| When will he take his last nap with us? |
I am in a very
introspective place, this motherhood. The less tiny and helpless the
boy becomes, the more I seem to be able to come back to me. He is
fabulous and amazing, a joy, such a great kid to watch become. I've
done something right. I love to watch his growing mind work, the new
things I find. All of his annoying talking cars lined up on the
little parking garage ramp. Watching him refill the toy bin after
he dumps it. His equivalent to jumping in a New England leaf pile is
my warm laundry. It's a race to fold and put away before he unfolds
or jumps on it. And the way he jumps – ass first. At the floor.
Shit's gonna get real when he loses the padding of diapers if that
remains his technique. Words are delayed, but coming. And he
understands everything he hears. He can pick the blue ball or green
brush out of a line-up. His appetite to have books read to him is
insatiable. He cares for his Bun-Bun (favorite stuffed toy) feeding
him and brushing his teeth, making sure everybody hugs him. When I
pick him up or come home I am met at the door with a happy barrage of
“Mamma Mamma Mamma!!” as he tries to push through the many bags I
am invariably carrying for a hug. Or he'll suddenly have an urgent
need to zoom in from the other room and grab and SQUEEZE my leg
really hard for two seconds with verbal squeeze noise sound effects
and then go running back to his toys to play. Sudden onset short
lived need to squeeze? From my kiddo it's great. I'll take two.
(From a stranger? Probably weird.) It's like watching a little
universe expand.
There have already been
so many lasts. No more breastfeeding, my milk dried up just short of
him being 10 months old. With the end of breastfeeding and bottles
came less cuddle time. Logan loves hugs and kisses, but then he
heeds the call of getting back to the serious business of play. The
drool dial has been turned way down, only occasionally showing up as
a trickle with molar activity. He used to drool so much as he
crawled it looked like a giant snail was working its way through our
house. He sleeps in a toddler bed, not a pack and play. The car
seat is now front-facing. Clothing and shoes turn over at an
astonishing rate. I feel like he's gotten bigger and weighs more
with every morning's greeting. He was my twin when he was born, me
with a Y chromosome. As baby-ness falls away to boyhood, he is
looking more like his dad.
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| Growing every time his eyes close |
So: back to the blues
concert. Duncan took us because he wanted us to see a musical legend
as a family. Willie K collapsed towards the end of an amazing
rendition of Gold Dust Woman. I wondered if his heart had given out.
A big man, it looked like his knees buckled and he did a sort of
backbend. Even unconscious he would not let go of the guitar
strapped around him. The singer that had been doing Stevie Nicks
such justice was trying to right him by pulling up on his guitar, the
only real option in the awkward position and situation. I told the
nearest usher I was a nurse and asked if she could get me on stage.
There was already a medic in the wings and an ambulance there in
minutes. It was reported that he was dehydrated. Drink more water.
And live the way you want, because this shit is short and the spark
of life can leave you at any time. Better said: Life is a long road
on a short journey – James Lendall Basford.
If Willie had left his
body at the concert that night, he was doing it right. A grand exit,
indeed. He invited all his friends, gave them the light to shine and
share. An amazing talented collection of musicians. He played and
sang the things he wanted to experience that night. Willie opened
with a goosebump raising rendition of Lilac Wine, one I love in
original, remixed, and covered versions all. He shared that was the
first song his father taught him, and always having wanted to sing it
performed it for us for the first time. Oh that falsetto. More
goosebumps. Nothing like living every day like it's the last. Some
advice I'm looking to follow more this 2019.
Thanks for sharing YOU
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