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Karma Free Writing will be offering 27 Days of Karma Free Writing Prompts starting on the 1st day of Spring. These writing prompts are designed to stimulate the creative process for writing your personal story - and beyond.
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April
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- #18 - Theme: "Listen & Follow"
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April
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About Me
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
ReplyDeleteI Wasn't At The Party
There was a party last night, but I wasn't there.
I wanted to be there, but it was far away, and right now it's just not the time to jet half way across the U.S. for a party.
I woke up in something more than a foul mood.
I wasn't mad. I wasn't sad. I was done.
There wasn't anything I could think of that sounded worth my while. Nothing that was interesting, amusing, compelling, invigorating, stimulating, enlivening.
I decided I'd run away. Here was no good,so there just might be better...at least it would be different than here.
That's it, abandon all responsibility, head for a spa, treat myself. Stay the night, maybe two, maybe three. This was starting to sound good.
The email said, "someone's coming to see the house at three."
I had to check my email.
I could have not checked my email, and I wouldn't have known. But I checked my email.
I had to take Amos.
Running away with a 100 pound mastiff mix isn't as sexy as running away with nothing but an overnight bag.
Spas don't take 100 pound mastiffs.
I could still go somewhere.
I got in the car; Amos got in the back.
I went to Sonic. I never go to Sonic. I ate a supersonic burger and tater tots. I ate all of it. Amos kept sniffing my tots.
I went to my favorite toenail spot. A beautiful woman massaged my feet and rubbed hot stones on my legs. She painted my toenails my favorite purple black. Amos napped.
I went to a stationary store and bought delicate little glasses for someone's birthday. Amos napped.
By this time it was too late to run away to anywhere interesting, and I had no imagination of a place to go.
I've seen people go into the Four Seasons with their dogs...I know the Four Seasons is pet friendly. But the Four Seasons people have dainty dogs that are perky and prance. If they bark, their barks are pleasant little chirps. Amos is not a Four Seasons dog. He's more of a truck stop dog. Or a Motel 6. Neither of these fit into my runaway fantasy.
I went to the Sunrise Mini-Mart and bought a pint of Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia Frozen Yogurt. I ate the whole pint. I never eat ice cream.
It was four.
I went home. I sat on my bed and watched six episodes of 30 Rock and imagined what was happening inside my body as the supersonic burger, tater tots and cherry garcia collided into one another. I saw my thighs grow. Amos napped.
People in my family came home. I told them not to talk to me, that I was in the middle of my runaway day. None of them understood what I was talking about, but there must have been something in my eye because no one asked, they just left the room. I liked that.
All in all, I think it would have been a better day if I'd gone to the party.
JG,
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for everything, I am very grateful to you and the group. You all have given me gifts of joy, depth, searching,expression and connection. The group last night was full of wondrous words and kind eyes.
Best,
J
jeff@jkrlaw.com
Blame this story on Exhaling!
ReplyDeleteA Love Letter to Myself.
You know how it is. At least I hope you do. You’re right on the edge of sleep when a sound comes out from under the covers rousing you to alertness. You feel embarrassed even though you’re all alone. But it feels so good, too, that release of air that ‘s been bubbling around inside you. You turn over and go back to sleep.
But now, but now.
Here I am, finally sleeping in the same bed with a man, a man I really like and he likes me and last night we made love for the first time and it was really good and I’m sleeping soundly -- it’s a good sign to be sleeping soundly with the man you just made love with for the first time, don’t you think? -- and he’s lying there, reliving last night and listening to the woman next to him -- me -- breathing. He wants to call it night breathing, wind rustling through trees, breathing that’s -- right on this edge of snoring. No, it’s not snoring, he thinks. It’s cute. Like she is.
He sighs and lets himself sink deeper into the bed. But what are those bubbles, that honking coming from under the covers? He knows of course what they are and, being the mature man he is, tells himself, “It doesn’t matter.” But it seems to matter. That soft, warm, expansive feeling in his chest, where he imagines his heart to be, is pulling back into itself.
But isn’t it true that the day’s going to come -- well, the night -- when she’ll be the one lying awake, gazing at me, thinking about that quiet little snoring she hears. Will it sound quiet to her? Or will it be one of those times when I wake myself up with a start, surprised at the snort that’s just found its way out of my nose. How will she take that? And even worse -- now he’s really scaring himself -- what about that bubbling and honking she’ll hear one night under the covers on my side of the bed?
Suddenly, and, for the life of him he can’t figure out why -- it’s a mystery, a moment of grace -- he finds this fart of hers -- let’s call it what it is -- endearing. Just another thing we have in common he thinks, this woman who might be the partner I’ve been looking for, who I had no idea could even exist. That note she sent when she saw my picture, her voice on the phone and then that off-the-shoulder blouse she wore to our first meeting. What beautiful shoulders, I’d thought, what elegant clavicles. I don’t remember ever being so taken with clavicles, never even said the word before. She told me over a second cup of coffee she wore that blouse because she heard that older women should show off their shoulders, that shoulders never get old.
And now, this woman with beautiful shoulders and elegant clavicles -- farts! This woman in my bed is a human being. Not a fantasy, not a dream, not a wish. A human being. Who farts!
(April 19, 2010)
I'll post mine in a bit. I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for an amazing night. I also wanted to invite you to this meditation thingy, and i'm putting it here for those of you whose emails i don't have/or are not on facebook...
ReplyDeleteI think this meditation I'm doing has transformed my writing, performing, and my life.
I told you about that meditation thing I've been doing, or I think you might be interested... anyway, Odessa Rae, who was trained in this modality and has been doing it for years (she studied with the woman in Seattle that I did the workshop with), is offering a meditation workshop, for an hour 830-930 on Tuesday, April 27. Please arrive at 815 so we are sitting at 830. we must leave the space by 930. It will be $15.
like I've prolly said, it's been an amazing tool and transformative experience for me to be doing this meditation. Odessa will be teaching "cocooning" which is like a 2 minute meditation "snack" you can do a bunch of times per day.
Place: 12329 Marshall Street Culver City, 90230
Time: 8:15 pm for an 8:30 sit down/start
Day: Tuesday April 27th.
Message from me: Hello. And love. And tons of light emanating in a thousand friggin directions!
We can cry every day
ReplyDeleteMy sweet Blue Jay
We can rain upon them as we soar
And pour forth all our passion
Which is not at all in fashion any more.
Oh to be one with the bird
one with the flight
one with the light
one with the word
I am the word, I tell you
I am the letters that make up the words
I am the squiggles and the lines and the dots upon the "i"s
And you.
You are the easel and the paintbrush and the colors
made from plants and tree bark and persimmons and vermouth
and turmeric
and we are both the canvas
and we write and paint upon it
we write and paint the world upon it
and as we step, we tread ink droplets
our footsteps look like stars
We are explosions of light on the canvas of life
We are explosions of life on the canvas of light
Yes we are that and all that and all of that and that.
You?
You are the glue?
Can you be the glue this time, and I the broken glass?
Can we forget our pasts
and switch roles
and climb out of those deep holes we have loved for so long
Could that be wrong?
Could neither of us be broken?
Could neither of us be adherent?
Could it be that transparent?
It is of the utmost importance that I be the formation
of the ever-present
ever-lasting
ever-ness.
And you be the formulation
of the mathematical equation for everything.
Can we formulate and form
and foment and storm?
Oh my sweet love
Who are you
Where are you
I am so forlorn
Please come soon
For I will croon
the deepest love song lullabye that has ever been sung
We will have just begun
we can wring out the light and the dark
from the start
and squeeze the everything
from the everything
and really really give
and really really live.
Thank you, Joshua, and everyone, this has been a terrific and wonderful project and although I was not able to attend the party, it feels like a party inside. I love all the posts, all so sensitive and so honest. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI had just been living in SF in the Marina on Bay Street across from Ft. Mason for about a year or two.
Found the ad on Craig’s List for a “walking partner” so I responded.
“Can’t walk too great right now, knee problems, you know, but I really need to move.”
A few months of back and forth emails. Why she did not just write me off - I have no idea - between my infirmity and my hospital schedule (12 hour nights) we could never find a time.
And then the day arrived, we planned to meet at Bay and Franklin Streets. I walked to the intersection and stood there and across the street I saw her standing among all the others and immediately I knew it was “her.”
“Hi!” I called her name and she smiled, yes it was her. She had just come back from the 2004 Democratic Convention, and she said, “I am so depressed about the outcome - another 4 years of Bush!”
So we walked and we talked as if we knew each other all our lives. After a very short time, I said, “I’m sorry but I cannot walk anymore.” And she didn’t show her disappointment or her frustration.
A few weeks later and I underwent a knee replacement, it was horrible.
She called. I remember saying “don’t come over, I cannot do anything and I am miserable and in pain, I will call you when I am up for company.”
She did not listen to me.
Next thing I knew, she was at my door with dinner, she sat on the chair and I sat in the bed with ice packs and we ate and we talked like two old friends - seems like we knew each other from inside out.
Joshua,
ReplyDeleteMerci beaucoup, it was fun, inspiring and lovely.
Buying Shoes
They were absolutely beautiful. I couldn’t see anything else in that fancy shop but them. The kind of boutique I could not afford anymore, I thought I didn’t care until I saw them. Second hands was just fine to me, until that moment of course. These shoes were very special. I felt attracted instinctively, like if a magnet was on their side and the other part hooked on my desire for them.
I managed to clear the thought of me wearing these shoes. It was harder than it looks like, the only thing I could think about when I felt overwhelmed, sad or just disappointed was me in these shoes dancing with Joy or walking with Divine Grace.
I decided to systematically avoid the street where the designers boutique were located. Of course, every appointment I had for the next couple of weeks challenged me a lot. No matter how hard I tried, I had to deal with this street.
I finally admitted that I was powerless over my attraction for fancy shoes, but I didn’t surrender so easily. To confirm to my reasonable mind these shoes were a real bad choice, I’ve asked a girlfriend to come with me and check it out.
I was hoping she would have said «Forget it, it’s much too expensive for your actual budget». Instead, I was pretty disturbed by the fascination I noticed in her eyes.
-« Oh my…….. It’s so totally you !!! I can’t believe it. You have to get them… You have to get them immediately !!!!! These shoes are made for you. Look at them, they are just perfect. How much ? Oh….. That much … really ???
Oh…….. Get them anyway !!!! »
Don’t know how I had found the strength in me to reply : « Maybe….. But not now.» Avoiding her eyes while turning to the uptight salesperson « When is your next Sale coming up ?»
She replied with her lips almost closed :
These shoes will never be on sale !
I came back home, looked at me in the mirror barefoot and decided that with or without these shoes, I will just be so totally me anyway!
Two weeks later, the amazing shoes were on Sale. The uptight woman had been laid off and I was dancing with Divine Joy and walking with Grace in these amazing beautiful shoes.
Rose