my-life-literally

[my-life-literally]

Two nights ago I had a dream about my brother. In real life it's his birthday tomorrow.

Recently he called me a guest in an established household. A household I was a part of for longer than he's been alive. My dad said nothing. He's said nothing for as long as I've been alive. Except for maybe once. But that was a long time ago.

But in my dream my brother and I were great friends. Our relationship was pure. We were in a field and he spotted a bald eagle flying way high overhead. Higher than bald eagles normally fly. And I noticed that in the daylight, the constellations were shining so they appeared as tiny white dots scattered in the day-sky.

He looked at them too.

More things happened and I forget them now. But that was my favourite part.

[my-life-literally]

There is something so great about a handsome man. He was such a handsome man.

Like a shiny apple, and kind of rotten inside. Well rotten. With worms. Worms of misogyny. I had to look up how to spell that word. My trick fro remembering it, is that it has two "y's" Because when I left, I had to ask "why" more than twice.

I still don't know why. He just didn't belong to me.

A friend came over yesterday, and I told her that when I was a teenager working at McDonald's, a guy there introduced me to a new co-worker with, "This is L, she sees the good in everything."

And my friend said that story reminded her of the saying, people see things as they are. I was touched, but also numb.

Well, I saw a lot in him. In my fictional memory, I still do. But in my non-fictional memory, I see the reality of him too. What a bummer.

Because of him, I learned all about how misogyny is unfolding today. I am so proud of myself for peeking behind the forbidden door, and trusting my gut that those comments led to something more. That all rivers run to the sea.

It's a really pretty day today. I have my sunglasses. And I have my dog. And we are going to enjoy it together.

[my-life-literally]

It's so surreal and comforting to watch GG over and over again. Or it's clinical. Pathological. Being stuck in a moment.

I feel like all the key emotional events of my life have already happened.

I just don't see a lot of the same emotions in my future.

In my future I see, steadiness, stability. Navigating. I like it.

And sure, I mourn the rich emotional life I had. A peopled life. But this isn't so bad. But maybe it is. Resigned. Giving up. Clinical. Pathological.

I can't tell anymore.

I just feel glad that I can take care of my dog. She's 7 months old now. She is the cutest and sweetest.

It's so important for a girl to have a dog.

[my-life-literally]

Yesterday morning was a perfect morning.

[my-life-literally]

Ok here is how I feel. I don't have the fellowship I wish I did - though I don't want to ignore the ones I have.

I don't have the effortless beauty I wish I had. Or once had. Or pretended I had. But I hope I look formidable, respectable, and insightful.

Whatever is left of me, I give over to God to use.

This weekend, I have mopped floor, washed bedsheets, trained poochy, washed paws, washed tub, washed cushion covers, went for meet and greet at a home. Put together a deck for the caucus I facilitate on the side.

I hope I can figure out how to make creamy chicken penne pasta. I think I will have to make it up. You go this. I am relaxing after a medium busy weekend, Cinnamon is sleeping beside me - I took her to a park today! She is pooped after a part, meet-and-greet, and a long walk.

I bought deck turf. I paid my utility bill, and I am on my way to creating a budget for 2025. I need one. I just want to make a beautiful space, and show people. And revel in it, and light candles. And refine and enrich and bless it.

I want to read.

[my-life-literally]

I am sitting in my loving room. With my dog. She is five months old.

I had a note that this tumblr turned twelve years old. Twelve years!

Twelve years since I was depressed. Since I broke up with S. Since my sister and I fell out. So much has happened.

I've finished school. But not learning.

I've fallen in love. Out of love. In love and out of love again.

I've utterly lost my family as I knew it.

I've started building my career. Less than ten years in. I will figure out what I want to do with the next 5.

I am in a dreaming, root planting place in my life. I never thought I would be this alone. But here it is.

I am trying to build or enrich or deepen my circle. While grieving the one I've lost. I don't know yet how to carry loss of people. Or change of relationships or whatever.

I have a vision for this world. While being mindful of my mortality.

A girl at peace. Even though this world is not peaceful.

I have come so far from being anxious in my childhood - adulthood room, to living single, healing, caring for a lovely creature, cooking, doing the things. I hope I can keep it up.

One step at a time. L. One thing at a time girl.

[my-life-literally]

All I want now is to make a comfortable, cozy home. A rug pad under a new rug. A new sofa, and adult sofa, a life-long sofa. It laster her all her life.

A real bookcase. She passed it on to people she loved. Her niece. With all her books.

With millwork on the walls. And good lighting.

I am almost there, and a work in progress.

It will happen. I am in the middle of it. Making it. In the act of creation. That's where I am. That's where the restlessness comes from. But I can lean into it. Take it easy. Go with the flow. Work a little harder and more focussed.

Time to apply my lessons. I mean really act better.

[my-life-literally]

I brought my sister to me. To my house. In my dream.

In my dream. I brought my sister to me. To my house.

In my house. We ate sushi and watched a Studio Ghibli movie that came in two parts. Watching one part took all day, and she was about to put in the second, and we decided to pick up up the next day/night.

In my dream. We were just hanging out. Hanging out with nothing hanging over us. Just sisters. Chilling, eating. Watching a movie. I feel like there is a R shaped-hole in my life. And nothing and no one can fill it.

Fill the void of my whole childhood. My told purpose.

And I think I have to accept that it's just not going to be the same. As it was. But. It was.

I hope one day I fall in love again. This time as myself.

I hope I see her again.

[my-life-literally]

Something that I get chills about is the fact that the oldest story told made by the oldest civilization opens with "In those days, in those distant days, in those ancient nights."

This confirms that there is a civilization older than the Sumerians that we have yet to find

Some people get existential dread from this

Me? I think it's fucking awesome it shows just how much of this world we have yet to discover and that is just fascinating

[my-life-literally]

Today is't so bad.

I am so happy that I trimmed my puppy's face fur a bit. She can see! Such a cutie!

I cut out measurements for my living room plans.

I had an appointment with my counsellor and it was good. It's just good to have someone to talk to. Though I miss all the people, people'd my life. And the way that my life was people'd.

I really miss my sister. Or who I remember her to be.

I sent an invoice.

My dining table chairs arrived.

I ordered groceries.

All is well.

[my-life-literally]

I want to write about being a young woman.

The dreaming, the goal setting, the torture, the feeling of ripeness.

I don't think I am a young woman anymore. But I was once. I dreamed a lot then. I had a whole host. I had a sister. It was really lovely, and I knew it. I also knew there was a big chance I would lose it. And I did.

It's not ok. But it will be alright. As in survivable.

I think I am now a more grown adult person. I take care of myself. I am very lonely. Because of lack of community. Like I used to have in a family home.

I just have not been able to draw those things to me. I can't tell if my mother inserted me into her role and took me out when it was convenient for her. Or if I didn't want those things in the first place.

I think I did want those things.

I used to dream my only dream: Of creating a safe place for my brother and sister to grow up. And I did create a safe place. Only they grew up and I was too late. It's not my fault. But I was too late. If I had then what I have now, I think our lives could have been so different. Just a place to be, and grow, and laugh, and cook and eat.

I used to dream a vision of an outdoor space, with lanterns lit on a warm evening. Lots of cooking, and conversation, and din, and people. My brother and sister there. Beautifully set table. Beautiful because of all the people peopleing it. I think I felt that sometimes. In my family home. I must have since that is where that dream was born.

Now I feel it is far away, but deep in my heart at the same time. Now I am just happy to have the ability to dream that dream. Even if it's not in front of me.

I am trying to live the life I have. The one before me. And come to terms with the "not having" of the life I dreamed. It is one lonely road though.

I think other people can tell. I am very sensitive to people saying things like "but how many people are you going to have over..." when my friend and I were talking about my non-extendable dining table. And I joked and said: "yeah...just stay outta my house."

But the truth is, I want to send invitations to people I used to people with. For them to come back. For me to come back to them. For us to gather, and cook food, and make conversation, and laugh, and light lanterns. It takes effort. I don't know if any of us have it now.

Last time, we were thrown together by circumstance. We don't know how to reach. How to effort. Though, sometimes, I feel like, they just don't know how to effort for me. I don't come with enough.

Just enough for me I guess. Sometimes I am so relieved, that I can be with me. And I am so gentle these days. Gentle with myself.

[my-life-literally]

Period

After a good and long time, I am finally on a day where I am doing nothing. And I have my period.

No work. Just me and my puppy. She had a rough sleepless night last night. So I am expecting that she takes a good long nap this morning. My poor baby.

I don't have to go to the store. I am going to snack and graze on the food I have. I am going to dream about the new furniture I am going to start saving up for.

For the first time in my life, I am about to have proper dining room chairs. They're on their way to me.

I can move at my pace. I can rest. I can drink tea. All I have to do I take little puppy out for a walk and to the bathroom. And that's not so bad at all.

[my-life-literally]

I exist when I am not in my family's sight.

I wish they knew that.

Also, they exist when I am not in their sight.

In my family. We love each other imperfectly. And part of that imperfection is incomplete love.

I feel like I am incomplete.

How do I feel more whole?

How do I feel like the pieces I have assembled are enough?

I am fascinated by people who have more. How were they able to assemble all that?

[my-life-literally]

Pain

This is what I've learned about people's pain. Pain isn't expressed all day every day in cruel words or biting looks. Sometimes someone can hold pain in mischievous behaviour, in raked leaves, and sleepless nights.

When the pain leaks out. Maybe because of a thousand moments of being unseen. Or being taken for granted. Or marrying the wrong person. Or the constant dull thudding of daily criticisms. Pain leaks out by not going to the doctor when you're sick. Or not wearing a mask while refusing to take a COVID test. Or casually telling people that you coughed up blood, but it's nothing serious. It's claiming to self-isolate and breathing into the air and unknown illness.

[my-life-literally]

Things I need to revive

I need to revive the following: working out. Going outside. Reading more. Less TV.

Calmness when it comes to work. This is linked to exercise. And going outside.

Time for winter. But time to revive myself.

Relax L, you can do this.

[my-life-literally]

Orchard House, home of Louisa May Alcott, in Concord, Massachusetts.

[my-life-literally]

Jeffrey Vaughn (American, b. 1953)

New Snow, 2024

Oil on canvas