happiness sneaks in through a door you didn't know you left open. ~john barrymore


i have a world of things to contemplate tonight.

first, today is a couple of monthiversaries: in february, in the middle of a snow-covered corn field, i handed my pack of cigarettes to my sister and told her not to give them back to me.
i had been smoking since i was 14. i haven't had one since.

in may, i told met i loved him for the first time. i had been too scared to admit it for a while: too soon, too much, too fast; at the time, i was away - more than 4,000 kms away, to be exact - and was going to be for quite some time.

it's nerve-wracking telling someone that you love them for the first time over the phone.
-tell me.
-i'm afraid you're not ready for what i'm thinking.
-tell me anyway, and let me decide. i think i might be.
-i think i love you.
-i think i love you, too.
-well, then, i know i love you.

in the past 24 hours, the universe has, again, been trying to teach me how to let go.

the lesson started with a conversation with my godmother; we talked mainly about my father, who is an asshole, and someone i refer to when i'm feeling generous as 'the sperm donor'. he has done literally nothing to help raise banane or me since we were little.
i couldn't avoid telling her of my fears about him any longer. while i want to be clear in saying that i don't remember anything happening when i was younger, since i've been an adult dear old dad has acted VASTLY inappropriately towards me on a number of occasions. for years now, i've been prodding this instinct like a cavity, trying to figure out what will leak from the hole.

she backed me up.
it wasn't as if i was expecting her to run in the other direction, rather i was expecting her to say something like "oh, your father could never do that."
what she did say was, "your father's never thought of you as his daughters, and he's always had boundary issues. i see why you might be concerned."

i think it was that which made me feel a little ill. she knows my father, and knows me, and didn't dispute it.

i've also been doing some detective work in my family tree for quite a number of years, and i got a break in the case last night.
both sides of my family have problems with the concept of truth. there are a few alcoholics that we let drink without intervention; a few crazies who were put away and never spoken of again; people die and it's like they never existed.
i've long thought that there was some aboriginal blood in our family, but with my 95-year-old grandfather being the "traditionalist" (hmmph) that he is, i could never ask about it.
i forgot the power of a veiled question directed at the right person.
i'm on my way to figuring a bit more out.

this morning, too, i had a bit of an existential crisis, mostly having to do with me having no constraints on my time.
normally, i like being busy. i like thinking and doing lots at once; when i'm the happiest is when i'm being active and engaged with my life.

since i got back from b.c., TWO MONTHS AGO (oh, my god), i haven't been able to find a job. this, i think, more than anything has been weighing on me.
every so often when i stop to think about it, i feel like i'm walking a tight-rope 500 feet from the ground, with no safety net below to catch me. as long as i don't mis-step, i'll be fine, but one breath of wind from the wrong direction and everything could collapse.

my reiki master also called. i've been accepted to become a second-degree, which i'm excited about; we set the date for mid-september. she gave me a lot of training exercises for the meantime. i can't quite believe that so much is happening, so fast. and i thought my life was boring!

i went for a walk, to visit an organic food store i've never been to, and they're hiring. i'm going to drop off a resume tomorrow.
i'm a wanderer, it's true. whenever i have something to think about, i put on a pair of comfortable shoes and go out the front door.
today, these are the answers the universe gave me:

• i needed to immerse myself in my family this summer, truly meditate on the beautiful mess that we all are, and come to terms with that.
• school starts in two weeks, and with that, fall; these buttery summer days, these moments, will never happen in the same way again. i am learning to let go in the present little by little, and actually receive the gifts that the world offers to those who are looking.
• that things will happen when they are meant to, which isn't necessarily when i want them to.

so i am listening to cricketsong from my window, drinking gin and eating concord grapes, saxophone on in the background.

learning to breathe, beginning to absorb, trying to drift.