joyeux anniversaire, cher

hello! (she says sweetly, quietly, not wishing to disturb what looks to be peaceful sleep and sweet, sweet dreams.)

what holds your mind's eye as one year ends and another one begins?

i am here, right where you left me ... stringing words together, like christmas lights, watching them shine brightly in the dark and listening to you breathe.

happy birthday to you ... the boy who says impossible things that i believe. what do you wish for? what can i give you that you don't already have? off-the-cuff compliments? adjectives? a conversation on paper? an impossible encounter that lives in the imagination and somehow becomes reality?

what will you give yourself?

the wisest of men know that real birthdays are not annual affairs ... they are the days when we experience a rebirth; so that while we may grow older in years, we are newer every day. this, i know, is not news to you. you already know this life is a constant, gradual process ... a subtle play of light and texture and shadows, measured in centuries and inches. it is about kindness and passion and potential and temperance ... extremes of temperature, folding, pounding, turning ourselves inside-out, and bringing out the gold hidden within.

my wish for you is that you'll fly free and happy ... beyond birthdays and across forever ... and that throughout our long lives, you and i will meet ... when we wish... in the midst of the one celebration that never can end.

happy birthday, darling boy. i hope you spend the day in the company of the people you love and who love you the most. and i hope the day gently breezes into your life carrying with it all the choicest of things and all that your heart holds dear.

i am ever so glad you were born.

a kiss ... and another ...

...la

for meg

darling meg...

we have a tradition in my family...a race, really...to be the first to wish the birthday child a glorious day...so i've slipped out of bed to be sure that you'll have a note not long after the day has arrived.

i hope you'll hear today from all the people who love you and who miss you and who wish they could be with you to tell you so in person.

for my turn, let me just say that i would be a very different person if you'd never been born. you've reminded me what it is to be strong and soft all at once; you always give me a good excuse to be silly and you've shown me that it's okay to be exactly who i am at any given moment - motherly, angry, goofy, shy, sweet, smart ...

you are a good egg, meg. you illuminate the world around you and i am lucky to bask in your glow.

funny, huh? it's your birthday, but i get the gift.

if there is anything you want ... anything you need ... that i can give to you ... ask and it shall be...

i'm so very glad you were born.

la

a piece of cake

dear 'mo' ...

in texas, it's long past midnight, and so, as always, i am a bit late for this very important date. in the olden days, i'd have called and awakened you at the proper hour, but with the wee one and the sleepy husband, we'll have to settle for this letter from far too far away.

i have been crazy about you since before i met you - when, over martinis, dan said, 'oh my god, you and shannon will be so dangerous together. you have to meet her.' (and then, over martinis, i did.)

'you'll love her!' and i do.

when people ask me how long we've been friends, i just say, 'since forever.' there's no point in counting the years. and when they ask me how we met, i tell them i played the less perfect version of you in a play, once. no one ever questions that. as if, somehow, me as the less perfect version of you is part of the natural order of things. like gravity. or the sunrise.

and it's funny - they ask me the 'how' and the 'how long' - but never the why. if someone ever did ask 'why' we became friends, i'd have to think about it a minute ...

maybe i'd say it's your unique point of view or your generous nature or your mysteriously sassy sense of style ... maybe i'd say it's that i don't have to worry at all when i'm talking to you that you won't get it or that you'll get bored ... maybe i'd say it's the way i can act like an idiot and you call me 'kick ass' and never make me apologize for not being a quiet, boring girl ... maybe i'd say it's because we have the same restlessness, the same dissatisfaction with the default mode, the same idiot tendency to keep getting it wrong -even if only because it's the only way to get it a little less wrong each time ... maybe i'd say it's just nice to know that you paddle just as hard and at least sorta in the same direction.

maybe i'd say those things. maybe.

because i think the real reason we're friends is because it is the natural order of things. like gravity. or the sunrise. without you, the earth wouldn't turn and stuff wouldn't grow and life as i know it would have no life in it at all.

you are more important to me than i can ever express. you are the reason why i'm laughing, even when there's no one else around.

i love you and I MISS YOU and that's all there is to say right now. except ... that as i close my eyes in the dark of this morning, i have a very clear picture of you dancing and singing 'goldfinger' with so much soul that i absolutely believe it. so, go ahead and blow out the candles and have a piece of cake.

happy birthday, dear friend. i am so very glad you were born.

don't forget your umbrella

it is raining here again. heavy, looping drops that hang onto the edge of the clouds ... eventually making a sleepy downward dash to the pavement. maybe, like me, they're afraid to fly. even as they've braved the take-off, they are terrified of a crash landing.

in between errands and chores, i've been rereading my posts and letters from friends. we paint some beautiful pictures, you and i. we also ask a lot of questions - some directly, some not so. i have a gift for avoidance...but it's not one i wish to indulge with you, so if you have a few spare moments, allow me to answer a few...

you asked about my favorite chair. i guess, i'd have to say this old desk chair is it. it's uncomfortable. and pink (a color i quite like, actually, though not for furniture). it serves as sophie's favourite sleeping spot and together, they guard all my secrets. i sit down, it pulls me close and brings me to you. how could i not count it among my favorite things?

my music and my books are a lot like me...all over the place and big on words. i like a good story. and an unusual melody. i prefer my music acoustic and my books electric. the stack nearest my keyboard: jason mraz-james taylor-annie lennox-the soundtrack to "spring awakening"-two plays by neil labute-a book by anita shreve and my red clown nose (neither a book nor music, but sitting there nonetheless and worthy of inclusion).

my art? photos of my family, my friends and my favorite places...new york, the beach, cinderella's castle. also, two of my "poetry in motion" bus cards. (when i lived in dallas, i worked for the transit system and brought that program to the city. we did beautiful work, won lots of awards and praise, and it warms my heart to know that it has continued long after i left for greener pastures.) i had the first two poems framed, en la sangre and an exerpt from flower wreath hill. the latter is still one of my favorite poems of all time: "...you ask me what i thought about before we were lovers. the answer is easy. before i met you, i didn't have anything to think about..."

my favorite words? felicity. fundamental. unencumbered. oblongitude. discursivity. overjoyed. and kiss.

how did i celebrate my milestone birthday? i had breakfast in neverland and dinner in paris. and in between, i went on safari in the serengeti and jungles of asia; took a trip into space and an expedition to everest - twice. i twirled in teacups, pillaged with pirates and ended the day with fireworks and a glass of champagne.

in case you didn't already guess - i went to disney world. it not what you might expect for a milestone such as this, nor what you might choose for yourself, but for me it was ... perfect. it was a joy to reconnect with my family, to leave behind the 'whys' of getting older and to surrender to the childlike wonder i most surely still possess.

so, then ... happiest of fridays to you. i hope it's one of those days where happiness foams up over the top of you and down your sides, spilling over onto everyone in the vicinity. and if it's raining where you are, don't forget your umbrella.

older in years, but newer every day

i have a cancer in my head. my doctor says, 'no. you don't.' but he hasn't heard you and doesn't believe in the zodiac.

today is your birthday. so ... happy birthday to you. the boy who sings impossible things that i believe. what do you wish for? what can i give you that you don't already have? off-the-cuff compliments? adjectives? a conversation on paper? an impossible encounter that lives in the imagination and somehow becomes reality?

what will you give yourself?

the wisest of men know that real birthdays are not annual affairs ... they are the days when we experience a rebirth; so that while we may grow older in years, we are newer every day. this, i suspect, is not news to you.

your words tell me that you already know this life is a constant, gradual process ... a subtle play of light and texture and shadows, measured in centuries and inches. it is about kindness and passion and peace and temperance ... extremes of temperature, folding and pounding, turning ourselves inside-out, and bringing out the gold hidden within.

on this, the occasion of your birth, my wish for you is that you'll fly free and happy - beyond birthdays and across forever. that you'll have a day, no ... a life ... where happiness foams up over the top of you and down your sides, spilling over onto everyone in your vicinity. i wish you joy and light, the blueness of sky, infinity and more.

and wherever you are tonight, i hope the moon is out, your friends are near and the music is never ending ... and i hope tomorrow gently breezes into your life carrying with it all the choicest of things and all that your heart holds dear.

i am glad you were born.

two tickets to paradise, please

WHERE IN THE HELL IS MY ASTROLOGICAL PARADISE?!?

i understood the karmic debt and happily repaid it. i smiled through the long days at the store. the sinus infection. the melancholy. the absence of dear friends. the parade of idiots. i got hit by a car for fuck's sake! i took the tests, where are my 'gifts'?!?

in the week or so since my birthday, i've...broken a tooth; had a nail in my tire; been caught in the rain without an umbrella; lost the elastic in my underwear; spent five days pushing my mother uphill in a wheelchair.

on the other hand, i've seen friends...rekindle romance; get promotions they were hoping for; finally (!) become pregnant; find new homes they love; recover from illness...yeah. okay. i get it. these are the gifts. and even i believe that it's better to give than to receive. my good karmic energy is spilling over the top of me, splashing everyone in my vicinity.

ah, well, yes. the horoscope confirms it:

'you have discovered an environment permeated with kindness, well-being and support. there is a feeling of abundance in the air. it's quite a long road, but you can sense a payoff just around the next corner. still, you must hold it together until your well earned reward arrives. be aware that everything may not turn out quite as sweet as you wish, but you should begin to see positive results soon enough if you have done your work.

open yourself to the warmth of a harmonious, welcoming universe. you will be safe there. you are likely to make contact with a person, situation or group significant to your psychic and emotional life. this new influence will help you shift your focus. you may awaken to a sweeter, more harmonious and nourishing life experience. even if you have spent years living without anything like this, and it arouses your suspicions, try to relax into it. don't resist. allow the experience to soften you and teach you how to trust again. just because the past has been difficult or lonely doesn't mean you have to live that way forever. this opportunity gives you permission to feel your sweetness again, and a safe place to do it. unfold your petals. glory in being the wanted child of a benign universe. no harm will come to you.'

ah-ha. karma hit the snooze alarm.

i can wait. although sometimes i am willful and don't listen. i can wait.

amazing grace

i am back. older, definitely. wiser, perhaps. exhausted from my travels...to be sure. once i catch my breath, i will gladly recount my trip; tell the tales of surprises and hidden delights, until then...the sky is my favorite color of blue and the moon has arrived in the shape of a smile. it's cool outside.

i gifted myself this birthday with 'the collected poetry of nikki giovanni.' (it's a conceit of my youth, i admit. i have always loved her work and in the olden days, reciting her poems won me much acclaim and the admiration of more than one attractive debater.)

in the days since i bought it, i cannot put it down. i can flip to any page and always find a morsel of inspiriation. for instance...

'i am cotton candy on a rainy day
the sweet soft essence
of possibility'

see what i mean.

...the perfect description of myself in these last days and hours. and hopefully, in the days and years to come.

this 'essence of possibility' has been propelling me forward; the potential is at once beautiful and terrifying. still, i know this is going to be a very happy year. i have so much to be grateful for...

off-the-cuff compliments, freedom of the press, artistic license...cream cheese frosting, thinking caps...pb&j....adjectives, training wheels, sock monkeys, things not always being what they seem...not being 'too grown up' for anything...polaroids, mickey mouse...earth, wind & fire...being held soft and close...twilight lingering at the end of the day...'accidentally on purpose'...the hokey-pokey, fortune telling, unhurried hours, killer scrabble games...secret hiding places, james taylor, walkie -talkies, holding hands, late-night drive-thru windows...surfer boys, flying dreams, tuesday afternoons...
sneezes, tears of joy, pianos and acoustic guitars… things turning out best for the people who make the best of the way things turn out...the art of compromise...fresh flowers, pedicures, marshmallow peeps, hot coffee, horoscopes, love stories...french blue, armless chairs, cats who come when you call, fireworks...the tiny pancakes formed from batter falling from the ladle...no line for the bathroom...stage managers, brown sugar, being swept away by sheer delight...pale pink light tumbling into morning, conversations on paper, the impossible encounters that live in the imagination and somehow become reality...the knowledge that we are not responsible for those we love - we are responsible for those who love us.

to those who love me, who wish me well and who celebrate my birth - thank you! i have been warmed by you in many ways. talk about 'amazing grace'...

little wonders vs. the miracles

my birthday is three days away. exactly. to the minute.

someone asked me what i would wish for on my birthday candles. it is an excellent question indeed.

right now...my wish is to walk into a magical moment so pregnant with unforeseen possibility that i am caught entirely off guard. a moment where i am not in charge, where i am are neither the cause nor the effect. a moment where my lack of self-consciousness will open the door and whatever the moment requires will unfold easily without stress or contrivance, no ego or sense of self required. where i just might witness a miracle. happiness rising within, and spreading out into the world!

i would also like smaller hips, a video ipod and al gore for president. (look at that...still aiming for the miracle.)

i'll settle, though, for time with my family, kind words from friends far and near and an ice cream cone.

sometimes little wonders trump the miracles...and i like it that way.

i am who i am

today marks the last week of this decade for me. everyone wants to know how it feels. so far, i don't feel any different than i have leading up to other birthdays.

wait. actually, that's not true. i feel...better, somehow. and different, as well.

the last few months have given me perspective on evolution. i've stopped wondering how it is i've wandered so far from where i began and where i want to be. i get it. i'm not supposed to live my life with an iron control that excludes those different directions. the moon requires that i ride the high tide with no flotation devices, safety nets or rescue squad at the ready. it's just me and the great deep.

would my life have been easier, happier even, if i'd figured this out sooner? undoubtedly. but, i think i needed the struggle. to find balance and strength and gratitude. the struggle is why - and how - i am who i am.

so, who am i? this is the question that begs as this birthday looms large.

in the most basic of terms - i am still...unfinished. i am new. sometimes a drag. sometimes lovely. i am not yet the best version of myself, but i know she's close.

i am, and will always be - i hope - someone who spends freely of my time, energy, skills, money to see that nobody is left out. but, i will no longer be someone who allows my willingness to give to be misunderstood or abused, as if it were a weakness.

i am not someone who thinks myself superior to or more worthy than anyone else, but i do try to follow the example of the sun, beaming forth and shining indiscriminately on all who enter my domain. i am no longer worried that my light will shine too brightly, leaving others in the dark and waiting for their eyes to adjust to the light. it doesn't serve anyone to make myself small.

i am able to be alone and truly like the company i keep in those empty moments. i can to sit with pain and anger and loneliness, mine or another's, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. still, i am someone who cannot stay still.

and i am happy. given to graceful generosity and compassion. i can sense when someone is uncomfortable in a group and find a way to delicately put them at ease. i play the fool in order to shift attention away from someone else's mistake and try to do so in a way that doesn't diminish others' respect for me. i do not always succeed.

i am becoming much better educated for what lies ahead. i am free to choose my own direction, to explore and grow beyond the circumstances that used to hold me in, to see that the benefits that exist in my life no longer belong solely to me.

my challenge and opportunity now is to see how my experiences will lead to fresh possibilities, new ambitions and an inspiring vision of even greater potential. and i know that somewhere, beneath the surface, there is a reserve of strength that has been building for just this kind of opportunity.

this is all, i know, a little 'leigh anne around the philosophical bend.' and i know it may seem ridiculous and slightly self indulgent to admit these things, but i actually feel better for having written it.

life is too short to keep everything so well protected and unsaid.