Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Rocking the Crap and The Wabi Sabi

Thank you Shell for the guest appearance text while I was writing tonight, and telling me I am "rocking the crap" as a reply to my self doubt.

You know about Wabi sabi?  No it's not that spicy green paste you put on your California Roll.  Wabi sabi is a Japanese worldview that beauty is found in imperfection and simplicity, guided by three realities, "nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect."

Nothing lasts.

I feel myself racing towards all this change, trying to hold on to my familiar and savor it as long as I can.  How ironic, only now, I am keenly aware of the change that shadows all of us!  I went a little early to pick up Robin from Band today, to watch him learning to march.  I stood in the shade next to the Band Room building, and watched as son number two and a large contingent of middle schooler's followed commands, sir and yes sir.  Was it that long ago Robin scooted around this house in a walker, his two fingers in his mouth, chasing the cat and bumping into furniture and cupboards like a pinball wizard?  He looks down on me now, wears a full set of braces, a size 14 slim pant, and seems so much older since entering 8th grade just a couple of weeks ago.  Where is my baby?  Slurping cup o noodles he packed in his own lunch, no longer throwing pasta from his high chair.

I thought about buying some new bra's, cause I really need them, and then realized, why?  To wear them a couple of months?  It will be a whole new gig for me after surgery.  Yesterday when we took Robin to get some shoes for school, I wandered into the lingerie department adjacent to shoes.  I looked for "C" cup bras, whoa, look at those, as Robin tramped up and down shoe aisles in his Tony Hawk skater shoes.  C cup.  Pretty soon mine will fit in these.  Weird baby.  Freakin weird.

Nothing is finished.

I thought I would be grown up by now.

I did not think there would still be so much confusion and struggle and growth.  Awkward growth, damned awkward growth.

and there is always something to clean.  Dang.  Clean and organize.  How did all this stuff get in this house?  Will it ever be finished?  Will it ever look like that dream I dreamed?  Where the hell did all this stuff come from?  Will I ever be finished paring down, simplifying, and organizing?  Let me learn to live with less, except cash, cold hard cash.

Nothing is perfect.

Welcome to my imperfect life, imperfect soul, imperfect heart, imperfect body.  What a mess I have made of some days.  What a mess.

Beauty in the imperfection. All around me. A candle burns, this day winds down, I did not make much of it, just lingered through it.  I was tired and quiet, but when I was changing the water for my birds, the crazy hummingbird buzzed me, then floated in the air inches from my face, sucking the Russian Sage that is a purple riot now.  So close, so close, inches away from me, feathers shimmering and sparkling.  I'll bet he doesn't cry when his favorite flowers are not blooming.

I boiled red potatoes and when they were soft, mashed them with butter and salt and pepper and milk, to go with the dinner.  Chunky warm buttery soft potatoes.  Good.  Simple good.  I created slammin mashed potatoes today.  That was my contribution to the universe.

White fuzzy head, growing more and more each day.  Eyelashes coming back, what a surprise to find more when I put mascara on.  One day hardly there, the next, wow, I got lashes.  Brows still barely there.  Remember when I used to wash and roll and fluff and spray my big blond mop?  Now, I rub and marvel at fuzz.  Lots of white white fuzz.  More feathery then hairy.  Big Bird.

I don't know what the hell I'm doing, or if I'm doing this right.  I just keep doing it, winging it, flying by the seat of my pants, to keep from blowing away or falling into a manhole.

Am I doing this right?

Wabi sabi.  This life.  Beauty in imperfection.  Embracing and resisting that nothing lasts, nothing is finished, nothing is perfect.

Wabi sabi my brain and heart.

Peace as you find your way too.  KISS.  Keep It Simple Stupid.

Rock the crap.


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