Riddles

I thought to go through my favorites and come up with one word for each. Then I had to take my daughter to have her nails done (tips, airbrushed … sheesh). So I wrote about stuff.

Mask.
Fragile.
Wild.
Finding.
Wise.
Spunky.
Lonely.
Sweet.
Visual.
Nurturing.
Lost.
Complex.
Caring.
Intellect.
Motherhood.
Mysterious.
Courageous.
Dark.
Trapped.
Embattled.
Softhearted.
Sharpwitted.
Grounded.
Strong.
Better.
Sweet.
Responsible.
Overcoming.
Youthful.
Pale.
Crusader.
Noble.
Colorful.
Sparkling.
Group.
Evocative.
Reaching.
Grieving.
Poetic.
Philanthropic.
Sober.
Mad.
Striving.
Beautiful.
Enigma.
Faith.
Brave.
Satiny.
Full.
Best.
Secret.
Pillowy.
Superb.
Dude.
Unknowable.
Extension.
Dear.
Author.
Storyteller.
Flirtatious.
Entrepreneurial.
Sexy.
Naughty.
Dispersing.
Keen.
Deprived.
Independent.
Gorgeous.
Dazzling.
Astral.

A word about my favorites
By Me Explorer
Saturday, May 8, 2004

So I ask myself all these questions. I look, as people do, into my past for clues, for patterns. Things spiral and swirl. Can I find answers there, when I was bewildered and half asleep, out of the loop and unable to learn the rules?

I still don’t know about so many things. I have given birth to two living, breathing human beings. They will always be the best gifts to come out of my existence. One cannot come awake halfway through the normal human life span (or further along) and just decide to go forth into the world as all the things she has discovered she is.

I review almost three years of my recorded history. Some of it, in yet another bout of cluelessness, yet another ride outside reality, is gone to me now. Some of it can’t be seen by anyone but me because it has been written to, for, and about someone who needs to keep the aspects of herself that brought them into existence away from everyone else in her life. I am privileged, and I am a shadow presence. I am still missing things, incomplete. I dance, I flit, I fill a niche here, a hole there.

I learned early that life is a maelstrom, and so there is no point in trying to control things. I learned late how passion feels, what love does, and still don’t know how it is to live in its presence every day, outside of maternal love, which is a mighty thing and not what I am writing of here. I don’t know if anyone would want to live in the daily presence of my love for her, and I don’t know if I am capable of what I want most in the world.

At least it’s no longer a question of whether or not I deserve that experience. I don’t deserve anything; I cannot earn the good that has been given me in my life. Mercy and grace cannot be earned; if they had to be, I would be damned, and I’m not; I’m blessed.

So many things in the world baffle me. Municipal politics. Appearances and disappearances. Organization; organizations. I cannot sustain structure because its foundations do not exist in me.

I am loving and loyal and light and polite. I dread displeasing anyone. Once in recent times I was dangerous and dishonest and hurtful. Once I was a betrayer. I do not intend to be dangerous, dishonest, hurtful, or treacherous again. I would prefer to die and be gone before I am ever any of those things again.

I might, in being, cause pain to someone sometime. I pray that it will be a light, soft pain that passes swiftly. I know that I love fewer people more. I know that the love I have goes out from me in many forms and textures.

To be continued … I expect …