Giant F-Bomb Alert – Seriously

/ autumncircles / 2 Comments

I’ve never had a warning at the start of a blog to actually ward people off, but tonight’s post needs a big, fat “L” for language. So, please, if you are one of my young relatives who’ve never heard me curse or a co-worker who would look at me differently tomorrow – please stop reading now.

And know that I believe there is no such thing as a “bad” word – after all, Shakes told us a long time ago that “there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” I’d like to add that there are some words that most perfectly express how one is feeling by intonation and intent, no matter who deems them “offensive.”

Before you go – in tribute to a great blogger and her friend, check out Clusterfook and SecondHand Tryptophan. And not just today’s posts, but all of them to learn about these folks. There are some amazing humans out there if you surf long enough.

Now, seriously – if you are one who will be offended for whatever reason by reading my use of the infamous F-Bomb – then please surf along and I’ll be sure to post another happy-go-lucky, f-bomb-free entry soon enough.

Are they gone? Did they click away as they were told to? Are those left ones who understand that sometimes there is only one glorious word that can adequately express a feeling – whether it be joy or torment? Well, good because I would just like to say:

FUCK!

And un-fucking-fortunately, this fucking use of the perfect fucking word is not being uttered in any realm of fucking joy.

It is not even being fucking used about my own fucking life.

Fuck.

I learned tonight that a fellow blogger who also happens to be one kick-ass human from all fucking blog-accounts that I can tell is about to die from her fucking cancer. I, like anyone else who reads her blog, have known she is dying of cancer, but we literally were told tonight that the end is fucking any day now.

I do not know this person. I have only recently even become acquainted with her blog, and yet, I’m fucking pissed that fucking cancer is about to fucking take her from the world we know so fucking early.

I fucking hate cancer. It has taken quite a few in my family alone.

Not sure why I feel the fucking need to rant on about this, but I am fucking saddened by this turn of events for this woman. She is a wife to a great dude, like me. She has kids, like me. She loves to write whatever the fuck she wants, like me. By reading all of the comments of random viewers and more importantly the ones by her Power of Blog, she has some great fucking friends, like me.

How fucking human of me. She is the one fucking dying, and I’m fucking whining about how it effects me. You know what’s even more fucking ironic? This woman who is dying would totally understand my fucking reaction and embrace it, not judge it. We need more fucking people like her, not less.

We all have the ability to take something as fucking scary as cancer and turn it around into what it would mean in our own lives. Being human, I am fucking pissed that she has to go and leave her family and friends and blog world without her future self. Being selfishly human, it fucking scares me into thinking about my own fucking mortality and that of those I love.

But for Lisa and her family right now, it is just not fucking fair.

Fuck.

So, please go – visit her site. Read about her life and death. Read all the comments posted out of love for this life that is about to be over. Then kiss the ones you love and tell them that you love them. Say it often. And not just because they may get cancer some day, but because you love them and everyone deserves to hear how much they are loved…

And, please forgive my little fucking rant.

Letter to My Heart

/ autumncircles / Leave a comment

Dear Heart of Mine,

As I begin this letter, I honestly wonder what I will say. I have attempted to make amends to you before and upon reflection wonder if they can really count as amends if I don’t change my behavior?

When you were a young heart, freshly beating inside this new body of mine, I am sure I loved you, protected you. Even without memory of those days, I can still feel your connection to my soul – our soul.

As we grew and our journey took many paths, some of my own making, some not. Through all of the winding roads, terrifying back alleys and sunlit streets, you kept up your end of our commitment without hesitation or skipping a beat.

I, however, have taken far too many risks with you, with us. Fortunately, the majority of those chances have turned out well and we are living a relatively happy, content existence today. It hasn’t always been that way and I fear there are still some danger zones I am not able to overcome that may end up harming you.

I’m sure you remember the number of failed relationships both in love and friendship. Today we know those were never meant to last anyway, yet at the time they were extremely painful when they did not need to be. We have the loves and friendship of our life now that make us the most joyous, most complete. It all seems like I should be totally comfortable in the skin of this body, with the air we breathe, or the songs we sing.

The thing is, I think I am getting signals that I am not, that something is missing and the most troubling aspect is that I am unclear as to whether these electrifying pulsations are coming from you wherein the truth lay, or from my brain which we all know can be a battlefield of confusion and treachery.

For example, I have this friend. Her name is Vivian. She has it in her brain that she is disappearing little by little each day, literally. She doesn’t drink or take drugs but she has convinced herself that she is not far from fading out of this universe into some other realm. I love her. She is my friend and I want to help her, but I don’t know what to do.

She has told me how fulfilling her career has become after years of searching and yet she doesn’t think anyone really notices her. She is madly in love with her husband and believes he is with her, but she never hears him say the words. I have been around her kids – they are totally awesome, loving and funny creatures and still Vivian thinks she is somehow totally screwing them up. She spends hours on end confiding in me how she longs for concrete evidence that she is doing a good job, has the love of her husband and that her children are all right despite her varying and sometimes quite explosive temperament.

The more I listen to her, the more confused I become. I begin to think that she is talking about my life and not hers. I constantly remind her that she need not seek love and validation outside of herself. She has that naturally from within and simply misplaced it temporarily. I have told her at least a gazillion times to talk to her own heart in order to find the truth of how much she is loved and will never simply disappear. I cannot seem to get through to her. She still doubts, still worries that one day pieces of her will start to disintegrate until there is nothing left.

She’ll have strong stretches of time where she is okay, where it really feels like she believes she is all right and nothing has left her. Then something small will happen, like a forgotten lunch or a misunderstood comment or a challenge with her kids, and it’s as if she and I have never, ever spoken! I know it’s selfish because these are Vivian’s problems, but it is so frustrating for me! I give her my time, your time and she repays me with depression and arguments and yelling? Why won’t she listen to me, to us? It makes me want to cut her out of my life completely, to not listen to her long drawn out protestations of insanity anymore.

And here, dear heart, is where I fear I am failing you. I don’t cut her off. I am incapable of not listening to her and getting mixed up about whatever she believes is wrong in her life. I want so very much to “fix” her and her thinking, I lose track of our life, our love.

And for this, I am truly sorry. I owe you more than that. I owe our life and loves more than that. With the marking of this day, this beautiful sunny day where all things are possible, I begin anew – again. I will protect you from the confusion that my brain brings and not allow Vivian’s invisibility complex – whether real or imagined – effect our connection.

Together, sweet heart, we will beat strong and in unison for our well-being, happiness and peace.

Love,

Your Body and Soul

(For more letters to hearts, visit http://www.blogher.com/)

Who’s life and death is it anyway?

/ autumncircles / Leave a comment

Not sure how to eloquently start this post, so I’ll just tell the truth.

This is not a topic I generally think about but I was listening to one of my favorite radio stations the other day, and they were discussing the recent death and funeral of Kay Yow, historic women’s basketball coach.

She apparently recorded a video that was played at her funeral and the debate was “on” as to whether or not that was appropriate.

My initial and continued reaction to the discussion was how freakin’ selfish have we become in our society to think it an intrusion for the dead person to be making remarks at her own funeral? Screw whoever said the funeral was for the living and not the dead – why does it have to be that way? After all, the star of the funeral is the one who’s life it was that ended (or transcended somewhere else) – not ours.

No matter what you believe happens to our souls when our physical body dies, the death of the physical body is nonetheless a traumatic and life-altering event to the person suffering the actual death – much more so than the one watching.

So, I would hope that we all get our big girl panties on and deal with it.

And, you know what, maybe I’ll just make that music video I’ve always wanted to and sing for all to hear after I’m gone. (To those of you that think you know my vocal capabilities – stop shuttering!) How about Feelings? Something less torturous with a twinge of irony maybe? Every Breath You Take? Maybe I’ll stadium rock it with We Will Rock You/We are the Champions? How about one that I always wished someone would sing about me anyway – What’ll I Do?

Whatever I decide – it’ll be for me, since my name will be on the program for those sitting in the audience!

(It will especially not be for Kevin Kiley who will not be invited anyway since it would be too much for him.  Michael Irvin, however, is always welcome – to my funeral or any living party. And, they know what I’m talking about.)

(PS – I tried to call in but couldn’t get through…sorry for the delay…life goes on…)