giving thanks

what a difference a week makes.

in

i decided to start an early spring cleaning this year. in an effort to will spring to come. quickly. swiftly.

i reorganized my furniture: life-size tetrus.

attempted to weed things out of my storage bins: oversized junk drawers.

and in doing so i came across this card...


...from my father.

my parents are always sending me things at which i roll my eyes.

but inside was the note:

meg
i saw this card and immediately thought of you.
i suspect you may have already used this quote on your blog.
love
dad

that's all. twenty-four words.

and pulling it out and reading it over i thought of how as a child my father would print out sesame street characters from the computer and leave little notes in my lunch-boxes.

little note lunch-box days were the best.

there was never a reason.

no special occasion.

just because.

i am so thankful...

for parents who do things just because.
for early spring cleaning.
and unexpected stores of courage.
for men who make flirting easy because they're willing to meet you halfway.
for the laundromat that willingly takes my dirty socks.
for the fact that i'm the girl who never bothers to wear matching socks.
for borrowed books.
and renegade winter sunlight.
unexpected, kind emails. and loving comments.
for today and the feeling that anything is possible.






thanksgiving

in , , ,



"YOU SAY GRACE BEFORE MEALS.


ALL RIGHT.


BUT I SAY GRACE BEFORE THE CONCERT AND THE OPERA, AND GRACE BEFORE THE PLAY AND PANTOMIME, AND GRACE BEFORE I OPEN A BOOK, AND GRACE BEFORE SKETCHING, PAINTING, SWIMMING, FENCING, BOXING, WALKING, PLAYING, DANCING, AND GRACE BEFORE I DIP THE PEN IN THE INK."


G.K. Chesterson




i am so thankful for all the things i get to say grace before, and all the people who taught me that grace is an act of love.

in a day.

in , , ,

on monday night i chopped all my hair off. 

i needed a change.

yesterday, i bought myself an unforgivably expensive purse (euf. thank you birthday money).

and this morning i packaged everything i own into plastic bags in preparation for the exterminator. turns out preparing for bed bug demolition is like moving (without any of the organization). 

everything can change in a day.

two weeks ago i looked in the mirror and began to cry. i saw myself. as i haven't seen myself in four years. 

you see, when ned pitches a tent and stakes a corner of my life.... well, my face is the first thing to change. it swells ever so slightly which changes the overall appearance. it's not a big change. just enough to change... everything. so i looked in the mirror and cried because i thought, oh my god, my mom's going to look at me and see her baby girl for the first time in four years. 

when this thing... this ned...first came about it took so much time to interpret him--to learn his language, and convey his meaning to those around me. so by the time everyone understood, i feared most for my mother. she thought it was her fault. she hated that she couldn't help me. if there is anything unforgivable about the time with my eating disorder, it is the pain i have put my mother through. i know because i'm tethered to her. when she is sad, i feel her sadness tenfold. i can't imagine what she has felt throughout this--this process. 

so, that's what i thought, yes, my mom's going to look at me and see her baby girl for the first time in four years. 

and then of course the bed bugs descended. and my birthday. and the impending arrival of my family (we have a wedding to go to tomorrow). and if you don't know it by now... i tend to not do so well with big events. i've dampened many an important holiday in the past (i seem to recall a very difficult thanksgiving two years ago) and with the arrival of all these things, ned crept back in. by small degrees i allowed his onset. 

this... thing that today i cannot give more of a name to than just that: thing, is a constant lesson--an experiment in humility. just as soon as i am ready to claim victory, i am reminded that there is no such thing as victory. there is only this day. and tomorrow. and an endless fight. and that's not necessarily bad. because the fight won't always be hard. but it will be. the difference between a very healthy me and a very... not healthy me is at most two inches on the battle map. 

have you ever noticed that laughing looks an awful lot like crying? and making love can resemble a fight between two people? this world is made of infinitesimally small lines that we all traverse each and every day. 

the past two weeks have been not so good. but last night when i had the impulse to cater to ned's wishes (yes, that pun was intended) i didn't. and that's all it takes. one moment of unbearable strength where you pull yourself over the cliff and begin the slowly and steady walk away from the edge. 

so whereas i was not okay yesterday, i am today. and so yes, everything can change in a day.

when i see my mother tomorrow, i may wish that my face still reflected what i saw in that mirror two weeks ago. and i may way wish i looked slightly better in my dress, but, c'est la vie. there will be time for that in the future. so for tomorrow i will smile and know that my eyes hold all the me my mother will ever need to see. 

________________________________

back in high school i listed in on a lecture by a visiting shakespearean scholar. 

this is what he said:

the average american has a vocabulary of about 3,000 words.

the most educated americans possess about 6,000.

language fails us. all the time. every day. is it any wonder people suffer from any form of mental illness--when there aren't enough words to aptly express the full gamut of human emotion?

shakespeare's vocabulary? culled from all his plays and sonnets?

36,000. 

holy moly. 36,000 words. 

the man made them up. if it didn't exist. he created it. 

so on this day i wish i had all those 36,000 words to thank you all for your kind birthday wishes. i'd like to thank each and every one of you individually (and am hoping to... eventually) but for now i leave you all with just these two words.

thank you.

my birthday was a lovely oasis in the midst of these past two weeks. it's funny, 24 has gotten off to a rocky start. but i've never been so hopeful or so positive about what's just around the bend.

thank you. all of you. this thing--this blogging community--changes my life each and every day and helps me heal in a way unlike anything else.


love and thanks to you all,
meg

_______________________________

ps: one of the best birthday gifts i received was the knowledge that president barack obama was known as "barry" back in college. 

barry.

awesome.

my gift to you:



_______________________________

post ps: i am a child of october. october is the month the gods of baseball reign. the yanks took down the twins 7-2 in the first game.

game two is tonight.

let's go yankees. 



i am thankful...

in , ,
for monday morning tea parties. 




for witty friends. funny friends. imaginative friends. beautiful friends. grounding friends. friends with roots. new friends. 



for laughter, laughter, and always more laughter. 



for a morning out and about exploring the city we've loved for so long. 



oh yeah and...

  • for the nesting itch which results in such things as fresh dresser knobs and a beautiful vase from housing works
  • for any and all musicals pertaining to history (ragtime, assassins). i told you, history turns me on...i'm not sure why, it just does. 
  • for beautiful undergarments that can make a girl feel lovely.
  • for the twenty-five minutes i was able to jog on the treadmill last night (especially, especially for this. the pool is closed for the month of september {getting a really good clean following summer season} and so i've been forced back to the gym. i never ever thought i'd jog for a continuous fifteen minutes (i hate running). but i did. last night, i did. and then i jogged for ten more. and so i just might not. hate it, that is).
  • for the feeling that something really good is happening right now. that my life is moving forward. i don't know how or what or where or why. i just know that i am right where i need to be.
  • that i am happy.