22.

It's even and balanced and full and round. Completely devoid of the restless wildness and wonder of 21. But definitely no teetering 23. Simply 22.

Here are 22 things that are simply true about my life right now:

1. I am in love and it's not that messy. It's actually REALLY sparkly!
2. I am engaged in my school work more than ever before.
3. I am forming my legacy here and it feels really great.
4. I am becoming more comfortable with what I don't know and it actually feels good. Like a new beginning.
5. I am learning to work through the moments when I hate my paintings.
6. I am loved by more people than I usually acknowledge.
7. I am excited for the future, and conjure up crazy images of what it will look like all the time.
8. I have hilarious parents who have given me many gifts. We have different values on some things and I'm learning to accept this.
9. I sometimes feel guilty for all the opportunities I have had and still do have.
10. I am constantly trying to share my opportunities with others--to empower opportunities for others by shining light on their talents.
11. I hate dirty bathrooms & kitchens but I am definitely a messy bedroom gal.
12. I never made 'soul mate' friends in college, but I did meet so many people at just the perfect time. In a way, I've become much more of my own soul mate.
13. Friday nights alone in my bedroom with absolutely no plans is one of my favorite times ever.
14. On one hand I have no clue what I will 'do with my life' after college in the traditional sense of how it will be labeled. On the other hand, I know there is no detaching 'who I am' from 'what I do' and in this way, I feel completely unafraid.
15. I've always loved cooking without a recipe.
16. Cooking with a recipe is a new found pleasure.
17. Admitting that I don't know is always better than trying to pretend that I know.
18. Talking with Jodi on the phone is always the most therapeutic experience of my week. Even if I'm listening the whole time. (Ok, that never happens :)
19. My spirit relies on my body's health for its' health. Therefore, biking, fresh food, sleep, and singing are the best things I can do for my spirit.
20. Feeling sexy is still important to me, even though I've stopped shaving my legs and hate unwanted harassment.
21. No one has a perfect sex life. Including me.
22. My UGG boots make me extremely happy. Even though for 4 years I refused to wear them because I was too anti-UGG. (My mom bought them for me in high school and I didn't even have them in my current house until I called my dad before Inauguration and had him drop them off so I wouldn't freeze). Best change of heart ever. But I still rock them under my jeans. I'm kinda a closet-UGG lover.

sinking into the feeling

feeling 'emotionless'--it's like the idea of being 'classless' or 'raceless': neither actually exist.

the "privilege" of being in the upper-middle class is that you can feel as though your class is unimportant. it doesn't hurt you. you're classless. you take it for granted. and the "privilege" of being white is that you can feel like you have no race. or your race is irrelevent. it doesn't hurt you. you're raceless. and all's free of cost to your spirit.

the same applies to gender, sexual preference, nationality, age, etc.... the groups of dominant categories take for granted their ease in lifestyle. not realizing the ease. simply living with it as if it's normal because society has deemed it so. normal & attractive & desirable.

somehow i want to express how i think this applies to claiming an 'emotionless' state. so often when i'm feeling good--when i'm at a peaceful place in my soul, or still and without anxiety or saddness, i claim 'emotionlessness'. i claim that nothing is new. that all is still. 'same old, same old'. down-playing the joy found in the calm of my heart. neglecting to cheer for my simplicity & ease... not wanting to look too deeply into the eye of the joy, secretly fearful that i might find a storm brewing... secretly terrified that i've been fooling myself. that, in fact, i'm just as much of a mess as ever and i have absolutely nothing figured out.

how do i let myself sink into the realities of my joy and not fear moments of inevitable sadness or anxiety? this is something i'm struggling with just as i struggle with my whiteness, my class, my [at least outward] heterosexuality, my privilege. how do i use my privilege to influece joy without shielding myself from what's true and what's real--what's painful and what's scary? without trying to pretend that i've got it all figured out.

i think there's got to be a way to let reality be fragile. to handle my joy and my privilege with care--just as i do with my fear and greif, the parts of me that are oppressed. to remember that no side of the spectrum is more important than the other. that it's a circular cycle, and that in fact, my joy needs my fear. my privilege needs my oppression. my stillness needs my mess.

Video against Divorce Bill for already married gay couples

"Fidelity": Don't Divorce... from Courage Campaign on Vimeo.

more info go here: http://www.couragecampaign.org/page/s/divorce

is it enough
to walk home
with the cool wind
softly brushing
your face and chest

and the warm sun
quietly kissing
your forehead
and cheeks?

your body will
whisper
to your complicated mind
that she loves being
touched and caressed
in this way

in the way that
wild mother nature
has perfected
lovingly, tenderly

and your soul
will tell you 'no'
a 15 minute walk
simply will not do

do not go inside
and close the door
to mother nature's love

do not leave her waiting
for you to sink into
her outstretched arms
while you sit in front of a screen
buzzing away your brain

that simply will not do

The Youngest of Four

Being the last of four means having less of these old photos
And even less video. But searching through the boxes I found me

Mouth wide open with no teeth surmounting a giant car on its back
On the carpet of my grandmother’s living room

Arms up in a pile of dead leaves just big enough to swallow me
One is falling and I am reaching for it, sitting thanks to my sister
Who held me from falling back into the dried pieces of maple and oak.

Body flying on a swing with my knees up to pump and my hands out
To smile, next to my brother who’s cancer treatment had just begun
To puff up his cheeks and coat. I didn’t really notice then.

No smile sitting on my older brother’s lap, afraid of the quiet deer lying down
Because a deer ate my hair once. I looked as though I was crying silently.
My brother said silently with his arm petting the animal “I’m not afraid.”

Eyes straight ahead, with a mouthful of my hand, covered in chocolate pudding
From my nose to my then-white tank-top, chocolate handprints also holding
A spoon parallel to my shoulders, my tiny stomach half the size of the licked-over bowl.

Shirt off, gray sweatpants on, and a giant cassette player hooked to the elastic
Just below my belly-button. The chord made a V below my neck
I made a thumbs-up as I wondered around the house in my own world of music.

The last one to be breast-fed, last one to send off to pre-school
Then college. The last one to be assigned the least severe curfew
Last one to be trusted with a learner’s permit on 495, circling the district.

My finger circles over the mouth, arms, eyes, belly-button all glossy
All the same texture, all silent, all smaller and further back in time.
All full of the meanings we attach and detach, names and dates written on the back in cursive.
Names some of us will never forget until we are forgotten too.

But I can still remember these. We can still gather and search through boxes as a family
Still breathing and remembering how to remember, how to gather new forms that bind us
Beyond those barely-still-elastic rubber bands wrapped around our glossy silent selves
That cried and held and dared and survived, and mostly smiled.