Puzzling

I know that I should probably get out of the metaphor and into reality... Oh, but sometimes metaphors are just so delicious. This jigsaw puzzle -- this metaphor -- spread out on my kitchen table... all these scattered pieces - and the big picture in there somewhere. It will emerge if I can just figure it out. Just see it. And it's so hard, and takes so long. And you stare and stare and sometimes make no progress at all. And sometimes your hand, seemingly on its own, hovers over one piece, and another, and they fit. Still, progress is p a i n s t a k i n g l y slow. But you persist. You persevere. Because you know. You know that somehow, eventually, all the pieces will fit. You plod on, exhausted and uninspired. And little by little by little, the image starts to emerge. And then your momentum starts to build. And suddenly there are half as many pieces, and then half again... and it gets easier. More things have fallen into place. You don't need to review so many options -- many have been ruled out. They are locked into place, where they belong, and they won't torment you again. And then, after hours, weeks, months.. there are only a handful of pieces left. You know where each one goes. You savor it. Savor it. You're even reluctant to finish, now that the finish is so near. It's in your hand. The last piece, held between your fingers. You fit it in its place. So satisfying. You gaze at the picture. Beautiful. You let it linger for awhile.
And then, you break it down.
Creation, Preservation, Destruction. The Great Cycle. It's just a jigsaw puzzle. But such a lovely metaphor. Such a "fitting" metaphor. It's about solving a puzzle. Figuring out where the pieces fit. Having patience. And believing. Because you know the picture is there. You have seen it. It's right there on the box. Only this puzzle? The one of your life? Is a little more complicated. The picture is a vision. You have to hold it in your mind. And the pieces are organic, living, moving. They are times, places, people, actions, words. And from them, you build the final image. You put one piece here, one piece there. It fits, or sometimes it doesn't fit, and you have to try another one. When it is complete, you will know. You will see the picture. And you will gaze upon it for awhile, and feel satisfied.
And then, you break the pieces apart and start fresh...

A Big, Juicy Notch on the Bedpost of Love

Ok -- is that not the best blog post title EVAH?! Do you think maybe you're going to get some steamy, glistening, sweat-soaked sex talk, here on the virginal pages of Cakelet? Do you? A gasping, groaning, hip-thrusting, back-arching, sheet-twisting tale of desire and release? Is that what you want? Is that what you want real bad?

Yeah, me too. Sorry.

I'm doing a jigsaw puzzle. 1,000 pieces of blue sky, grey rock, white snow. It's a picture of Mt. Everest. Lots and lots of blue sky, grey rock, white snow. Oh wait, and white cloud, too. Just to make it more annoying and difficult. And some of the rock is kind of sky blue. It's just this 1,000 piece nightmare of cloud/snow rock/sky broken into fragments and strewn across my kitchen table. I look at it and honestly just feel despair. Deep, hopeless despair. And I think to myself -- Hey, come on! Let's keep things in perspective here. It's just a jigsaw puzzle. The fate of the world is not riding on these irregular bits of cardboard. The trajectory of my life will not be altered by whether or not I complete the picture hidden in this jumbled mess, or abandon it, and sweep the pieces off the table and back into their box.


But emotions do not always respond to these types of logical admonitions.


Emotions have their own crazy agendas, and pronouncements.


Like this: "Holy Crap! If I don't finish this jigsaw puzzle, I will never have sex again!"


Oh my God! Is this cloud, or snow?


I really have to get my mind out of the gutter.


I really have to put my body there.

Dream Small

I came across a quote online recently. It reads as follows:

"Unless your heart, your soul and your whole being
are behind every decision you make,
the words from your mouth are empty
and each action will be meaningless.
Truth and confidence are the roots
of happiness."

And I thought -- 'Oh for God's sake... gimme a break!'

It's all so serious... And heavy. And threatening.

You know what? I'm deciding to read for an hour. I'm going to lay on the couch, with my feet up, my glasses on, my blanket tucked all cozy around me, and I'm going to read for a bit. Is my whole heart, soul and being in this decision? Jeez! I don't know. I'm just going to read for a while. Does everything have to be so important all the time? Are the words from my mouth empty because I'm taking a few minutes to indulge in a delicious novel? Are my actions meaningless? Wait... what actions? Hell, I'm not even moving. I'm just laying here. Reading a book.

Truth, and confidence and happiness can do what they will.

And you know what? It's a good book. I think, maybe, my heart and soul and whole being are in on this decision.

I think, maybe, reading for an hour is enough for now.

Godiva

I went to the Godiva chocolate shop at the mall a few days ago, to get a box of chocolates to bring to a party. I don't go to parties very often -- but I figured, bringing a big box of chocolates would be a good way to make friends.
I don't go to parties very often -- but, apparently, I go to the Godiva chocolate shop alot. Turns out, I'm a "preferred customer." When I went this last time, to buy the box of chocolates for the party, they said, as a preferred customer, I was due for some free gifts. Free gifts! In a chocolate shop! Life is good!
They said I could have a free piece of chocolate from the case. I picked the milk chocolate almond bark. Although, they all looked good. They ALL looked good. And then they said you're also due to receive a free 2-piece gift box. Which I graciously accepted. Oh! And that free bag of chocolate-covered cashews, too! And as I walked back to my car, with my 2 lb.-plus bag full of chocolates I thought "Wow! This is just like a heroin addict going to the methadone clinic, only to find the nice person behind the desk saying 'Hey! Since you're such a good customer -- here's a free bag of heroin for you! Oh, wait... no... here -- take two!"
Anyhow...
The party was nice. I got to hear some stories. Really good stories. About travel, and romance, and unexpected obstacles. About health care reform, and Tiger Woods, and mushroom canapes. And I met a librarian! I had met her before, but didn't know she was a librarian. I want to be a librarian when I grow up. Which, I suppose, I'd better do soon, as I'm forty-six. If I can't be a librarian, I would definitely settle for working in a library. I could be a book shelver. I would be an awesome shelver. Because I care. I truly do care.
And now I'm thinking... books, and chocolates, and stories, and parties... it's all the same subject. It's all the same topic. It's about connecting.
I like connecting.
Because I care.
I truly do care.

Veritas

I'm wearing my new T-shirt that says "Sleeps With Dogs" on it.



It is covered with dog hair.



This is called living your truth.

Celibacy

I think celibacy is kind of sexy.

Is that weird?

Cue The Sun

It was a good day. Peaceful, comfortable, quiet. The kind of day I like best. I did some chores, got some reading done, made a few phone calls, texted back and forth with a friend. Wrote some. The kids came home from their ski trip at 3:00 pm and I was still in my pajamas. I took a bath, got dressed, went to Stop & Shop, made dinner for the family. Put away the white load. Gave the girls their post-ski massages. Lit my new candle. Listened to my new music. And now I'm here, and I'm reluctant to go to bed. It was such a beautiful day. I kind of don't want it to end. I'm not sure what it was about this day that made it so particularly nice. It was a pretty ordinary day. There was just something about it. Maybe it's that the distraction of the holidays is winding down. Maybe it's that the kids are home, but off doing their thing, -- so I have that nice mix of lots of company and time alone, too.

Whatever it is, I like it. I'm sorry that this day is over. It was so pleasant. It's gone forever now. Never to be repeated. Even if I do the exact same thing tomorrow, it won't be the same day. Can't be. Every day is a singularity. Isn't it? Am I using that word right? Something that has never happened before and will never happen again? Something that happens one time only?

Isn't that what every day is? A singularity. A unique and heretofore unexperienced phenomenon.

I can't wait to see what the next one will be like.

It's coming pretty soon. Guess I better get some sleep...