Today over at 29 Black Street, the LOVELY Susan gave us a photo gallery of herself – and honored me and my girls with this quote:
We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled.
The trick is knowing how to tip ourselves over
and let the Beautiful Stuff out.
I wasn’t going to post anything today. I’ve been working like a fiend on paperwork that is going to lead to my independence. And by “working like a fiend” I mean “working as if I had a fucking clue what I was doing.” Fortunately, taking my time at it makes it slowly make sense.
At the same time, for reasons I don’t quite understand, I got exposed to more work politics from the place that still sort of employs me. I don’t have any reserves of patience for that anymore. I really don’t. I go straight from reasonably sane to furiously outraged in about half a second. It’s not my problem. It’s not my job to fix the stuff that was being discussed. I just need to walk away, walk away, walk away.
So there I was, head swirling with figures and facts and divisions of various things and trying to figure out how the hell the coming conversations are going to remain civil (and really, they must remain civil because I have children and I am moving from a status of full civil rights to unequal civil rights – so I MUST BEEEEEE civil at all times, at. all. times.). And there I was, listening in on email conversations that really didn’t need to involve me, and just reminded me of the ick that I no longer deal with.
Fortunately I had one class to teach where the power of music brought back a little flutter in my soul.
And then I read that Bradbury quote. See – the thing is, when I’m in a changeable life situation like I am now, I tend to think if I tip over the cup, only the ick will spill out.
So, Susan, I tip my spiky hair at you for letting me know that even now, when I’m revisiting decades of life in my heart, reviewing how to go forward with civility and solvency in my head, and furious that I allowed so many years to go by with so little attention to what was really bothering me – even now, it’s the good stuff that comes out when I open up, spill over, let it out. In honor of your own openness I’m gonna post my own photo. And, of course, a song. I first heard Cris Williamson’s Waterfall when I was in the “onthefloorinthefetalpositioneverynight” stage of trying not to come out. First time I heard the first phrase I breathed again. So – hello y’all, here I am.