Reflections
Musings by Kim Tateo
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// there was a point last night when the moon looked like it was going to roll through the streets. i sadly did not have my camera ready for it, but i was able to capture it as it started to hide behind the buildings and make it's way higher into the sky. these are the moments of "still there".
i've been 29 for ten days now. so far, so good. it's so interesting to look back and re-read thoughts and wishes from previous birthdays. i have come so far, learned so much and grown tremendously; but at the same time i haven't changed at all. there are no specific lists, thoughts or wishes for this year. come to think of it, i didn't blow out a single birthday candle. i slipped into this year quietly, but it was unforgettable. no number of facebook posts or birthday candles could have matched the way in which i actually took time to celebrate myself. so for the remaining 355 days of my twenties (gasp!) i want nothing more than to learn to be better at staying in the space of the "unknown". i struggle with uncertainty. my relationship with change has been rather tumultuous because there is this part of me that always wants to have it figured out instead of just letting it be. i struggle equally with thinking too much about the past, wondering about the what-ifs and should-haves. judging my actions and wishing i could time travel for a "do-over". while i don't plan on time traveling anytime soon (i actually find it terribly confusing), i do believe there are situations that come around and around and around again, and we are presented with opportunity and choice. we can choose to see things differently. we can choose to make the same mistakes again. or we can choose to handle things in a completely different way. i believe this is healing. i want to continue with my life as.it.is. to continue in this space. to loosen the grip. i want to live fully. to tend to my garden of friends. to grow. to have adventures. to allow room for mistakes and remember compassion, because there will always be times when we don't get it right - or just don't get it at all. i want to be thankful daily. to love freely. to dream. i want to be open to possibilities. i want to be.
not pictured - learning new games that involve secret rules which are fun to figure out and really fun to laugh at when people don't know them (although i was one of the last to figure them out), crashing a reception and enjoying a glass of white wine (thank you strangers), avoiding the cluster**** while at the roller disco, watching the bouncer get flustered when we tried to request better music than said roller disco was playing, remembering how to stop down the scary hill and feeling my thighs firing when skating up it, volunteering with a great group of people and deciding that if there were ever to be a zombie apocalypse - they would be a fine group to survive with, people watching in chinatown, listening to lonesome dreams {which i believe is really one of the best songs ever} and saying hello to the bass player of this brilliant band, the 10 hour day of yoga including either 31/62 minute poses with chanting and the setting of intentions, and having the best birthday one could have on a solo adventure down south.
The year has been rough. About this time last year the inner gut started to hurt in the worst of ways, but the difficult decision to preserve the heart wouldn't happen until weeks after the birthday(s). The summer heat brought about loneliness and a sadness that only comes from having enough distance to see finally see a situation for what-it-was, not what-was-hoped. Forgiveness persisted into the fall, and room was made for the kind of love that leaves one breathless. The first night you saw his shape standing on the corner, you knew you would not be able to look him straight in the eyes, for his deep blue would see straight through to your soul. They still would.
Winter came and revealed the darkest depression felt in years, if ever. The saddest lyrics on cold walks from the train couldn't bring the release of tears which were so desperately needed and often tried. It took everything to just-get-through-it. Frustrations began, conversations circled, and you landed head first in a dark rabbit hole. A hollow space full of too-much-of-this and not-enough-of-that which really just meant taking things for granted and dealing with things in the worst of ways. The space was muddy and unclear, and it took a gigantic mess to feel the release. Everything unraveled and the months of trying-to-cry poured out. The floodgates burst and it took weeks for the tears to stop—but they did. Walking home, feeling the spring in the air, golden light on the buildings, clumsily dropping the scratching post (which should have been purchased two years ago) to-just-get-that-picture; there was a moment of clarity and a realization of being on the other side. It might have been the weeks of internal conversations instead of sharing everything with everyone right away for this allowed the inner voice to figure things out, to embrace the s-p-a-c-e. Nights were spent surveying forgiveness and the heart landed in a space of acceptance.
The year has been rough, but the seeds of self-love were planted last spring through those difficult decisions. The seedlings flourished in a love that defied gravity in it's best, but were bridled in its worst. But plants can self-propagate, new roots can emerge, and everything can begin again.
there's lots to write about, but for now let's start with some music. hope you all had a lovely easter.
this painting, is finally finished and sent off. i hope it's enjoyed as much as i enjoy reading adventures of life on this beautiful farm.
finished. finally.
hello march, it's the last month before my birthday. 28 has not been my favorite year. astrology friends joke about it being my "saturn return". whatever the hell it is, it has been r-o-u-g-h, but the words of processing these feelings are saved for the moleskin and book margins. so, for the last month of this year...let's be kind to each other (starting with compassion). and let's hope 29 shines.** because the stronger part of you (from other moments in time) knows that it can.
i'm usually unsure about "naming" my paintings, but the second i uploaded these photos; these lyrics came to my mind.
"The moment that you feel that, just possibly, you're walking down the street naked, exposing too much of your heart and your mind and what exists on the inside, showing too much of yourself. That's the moment you may be starting to get it right.” --Neil Gaiman
”People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A soul mate’s purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life…”--Unknown
“Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.”--Rumi
“Should you ever feel too lonely...listen for the roar of the sea - for in it are all those who've been and all those who are to come.”--Simon Van Booy, 'The Coming and Going of Strangers'
"The best thing you can possibly do with your life is to tackle the motherfucking shit out of it.”--Cheryl Strayed, 'Tiny Beautiful Things'
**sometimes your own words fail you, but comfort can be found in those who have been there. who have written about it, lived it. who understand what it's like to just go through it.
“Nobody will protect you from your suffering. You can't cry it away or eat it away or starve it away or walk it away or punch it away or even therapy it away. It's just there, and you have to survive it. You have to endure it. You have to live through it and love it and move on and be better for it and run as far as you can in the direction of your best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by your own desire to heal.”
"My grief is tremendous but my love is bigger. So is yours."
― Cheryl Strayed, Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar
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// this month seemed long, albeit short. i kept referring to it as "forgotten february" because most days were spent watching downton or sleeping thanks to a nagging (and still lingering) cough. but february was not forgotten. many bits were saved on the camera. in no particular order (and not matching the photos) i can say that it was a month of snow. and rain. and then snow (and skiing!) there was a midnight walk through prospect park which included running through a very dark (as in pitch black) tunnel {i screamed}. the cats were equal parts annoying and cute ... caesar has now taken to only drinking out of the faucet and waking to falling objects by a hungry cat knocking them off the mantle definitely tested some patience. pancakes were made the french way and sausage was made by hand. photos of both of these food events to comehere. oh! and there was a delicious delivery from portland. cookies with a message that made me smile. thank YOU dear friend, i also love y-o-u. not pictured: late nights at the office enjoying "mckinsey's"
// hope you all had a lovely valentine's day!
Descent of Species
by David Eagleman
In the afterlife, you are treated to a generous opportunity: you can choose whatever you would like to be in the next life. Would you like to be a member of the opposite sex? Born into royalty? A philosopher with bottomless profundity? A soldier facing triumphant battles? But perhaps you've just returned here from a hard life. Perhaps you were tortured by the enormity of the decisions and responsibilities that surrounded you, and now there's only one thing you yearn for: simplicity. That's permissible. So for the next round, you choose to be a horse. You covet the bliss of that simple life: afternoons of grazing in grassy fields, the handsome angles of your skeleton and the prominence of your muscles, the peace of the slow-flicking tail or the steam rifling through your nostrils as you lope across snow-blanketed plains. You announce your decision. Incantations are muttered, a wand is waved, and your body begins to metamorphose into a horse. Your muscles start to bulge; a mat of strong hair erupts to cover you like a comfortable blanket in winter. The thickening and lengthening of your neck immediately feels normal as it comes about. Your carotid arteries grow in diameter, your fingers blend hoofward, your knees stiffen, your hips strengthen, and meanwhile, as your skull lengthens into its new shape, your brain races in its changes: your cortex retreats as your cerebellum grows, the homunculus melts man to horse, neurons redirect, synapses unplug and replug on their way to equestrian patterns, and your dream of understanding what it is like to be a horse gallops toward you from the distance. Your concern about human affairs begins to slip away, your cynicism about human behavior melts, and even your human way of thinking begins to drift away from you. Suddenly, for just a moment, you are aware of the problem you overlooked. The more you become a horse, the more you forget the original wish. You forget what it was like to be a human wondering what it was like to be a horse. This moment of lucidity does not last long. But it serves as the punishment for your sins, a Promethean entrails-pecking moment, crouching half-horse halfman, with the knowledge that you cannot appreciate the destination without knowing the starting point; you cannot revel in the simplicity unless you remember the alternatives. And that's not the worst of your revelation. You realize that the next time you return here, with your thick horse brain, you won't have the capacity to ask to become a human again. You won't understand what a human is. Your choice to slide down the intelligence ladder is irreversible. And just before you lose your final human faculties, you painfully ponder what magnificent extraterrestrial creature, enthralled with the idea of finding a simpler life, chose in the last round to become a human.
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I (clearly, but wish I could) did not write the above, but it is from "SUM: Forty Tales from the Afterlives" by David Eagleman. This is an excellent book filled with short stories perfect for the train.
thank you, ht, for the fantastic recommendation...as usual, you are spot on about what's awesome.