>I know I said I'd sing, David, and I will. but for now, you've got the Romantics<
So now you have an idea of some of the “fake friends” that I love. (I call them fake because some people in my daily world seem to think that my on-line friends are like TV characters that I’m just pretending I know…)
Today I want you to know why I love you.
You may wonder how I know this about you. I’ll tell you later but for now, read on.
I love you because:
You love animals.
You understand that pets, while not exactly kids with fur, are an intrinsic part of life. That they bring you joy and devotion and are master teachers on your path. (admittedly they also eat and roll in poo – the lesson’s yours to take). You would never think of leaving your pet in a car, or chained in the yard. You spay and neuter your pets because you know it’s the right thing to do. You get that they stink up the house, sometimes pee and poop where you don’t want them to and that they have really specific and distinctive personalities. You know that on the days that their wants and yours are different you don’t always win. Yet you never, ever, tell them they’re stupid or dumb or not worthwhile. You hug them too much and you always tell them they’re beautiful. Now, I want you to know that your animals are a reflection of you. That’s why I love you.
You are courageous.
You are often afraid of what other people will think about what you say, you do or how you earn your money. But you don’t let it stop you.(okay, not often). You find a way to pull your head out of the sand 9 days out of 10 and you go on your merry way. You are learning how to ask for what you need even when you’re not sure you deserve it. You know that no matter what those repetitive tapes from your childhood are saying, you actually are worthy. You deserve the laugh. You deserve the hug, and damn if you don’t deserve the love.
You can’t dance.
It’s been brought to my attention a time or a hundred that the way I give the most joy to others is for me to dance in a public place. At first I thought this was a compliment about my beauty and grace. (After all mom and dad shelled out for more than 10 years of ballet, tap and jazz lessons – it had to have had some effect!) However, it’s about my future as a pratfall comedienne. I’ll take it. Who cares? I dance anyway because my body loves to move. You do too. And so, you CAN dance.
You love your body.
Oh, well, maybe not your thighs. Or your butt, or those funny little lines coming out of the side of your eyes. But in the still of the night, when you’re tucking yourself into bed and saying your big thanks to the sky, you admit it. Your body rocks. It moves. It holds all those important organs that know precisely what to do and when to do it. It works its ass off to keep you healing and whole and healthy. If left to its own devices it picks the right food and the right movement. It knows your highest good and sends you messages each and every day to confirm them. Your body rocks no matter what state of disrepair you think it’s in. You’re amazing.
You curse. Like a sailor.
Cursing and long talon-nails – make me happy. Do what you want with your nails, but when you’re with me you know that you don’t have to be prim and proper. You understand the proper use of epithets best not used around delicate ears. You don’t, however, curse around said delicate ears unless you really want to piss them off. And you have some choice words that you don’t use EVAH. But you know how to make a point. I love that about you.
You read. Like All the freaking time.
Your mother probably told you to STOP USING ALL YOUR CHRISTMAS (or Hanukah or birthday) MONEY for books. Yeah. That’s how much you read. You’d notice before you walked in the door if someone took your books. Even if they took only one. Words are like chocolate seduction to you. Your vocabulary (aside from the cursing, or maybe including some creative cursing) is huge and varied because you read so much. That’s what makes you fun to talk to.
You are picky eater who doesn’t think you’re a picky eater.
Admit it. You’ll eat anything. Except grapefruit, which makes your throat itch. Or chocolate, which makes your face sweat. Or dressing on your salad which just grosses you out. Or food that touches each other on the plate. Or dinner before 8 or breakfast before 10. Yeah. It’s cute and it’s fun to watch, so I love that about you.
You are a skeptic who is also spiritual.
You’re not going to buy into anyone’s religion or dogma because the advertisements look good. You’re willing to try a lot of spiritual ideas and modalities and tools because they pique your interest. Yet you’re not going to jump in with two feet and two hands until you’re good and sure that you’ve found an alignment. Frankly, you like to ponder the mystery of the universe, the connectedness of everything (WOW – ENERGY) and the idea that we all get to choose our destiny. You think we all have a spiritual path and you’re enjoying finding yours. It’s fun and playful and not by any stretch of the means “my way or the highway, buster!” You live by the motto “live and let live.”
You watch inane stuff on TV, Youtube or your Ipad.
Because it makes you laugh. It’s sitcoms, slapstick or just plain old “reality” TV Hell’s Kitchen style (so much so that you noticed the new logo) – but the TV is okay in your book. You don’t overdo it but you don’t lose your mind when your friends watch TV. Your first sentence when someone asks, “Did you see Desperate Housewives?” is NOT “oh, god no, I don’t even own a TV – that hogwash muddles my brain.” You may feel like you’re supposed to say that in some crowds. But you don’t. Because you’re cool like that.
You write, you sing, you dance, you craft. You approach the world as a new canvas – on the shittiest of days your brain, your soul & your heart are working together to come up with some new masterpiece. Even if it’s just the way you put the jelly on the sandwich for your preschooler. Your creative self is at the center. Letting her free is blissful. Even when you’re not sure what “creative” means – you’re living it. That is so juicy, fun, amazing to watch.
You are (or can be in the right moment) snarky and cynical.
Sometimes. I mean you pick on yourself and you don’t suffer fools well. And you call BS when you see it or hear it. Sometimes you stop and think, “Fark! I shouldn’t have said that!” But it’s always too late anyway so you’re learning not to lose sleep over it. You’re never mean. You never hurt people. (okay, that’s sort of impossible, but you never intentionally set out with hate in your heart to hurt people.) You let ‘em in on the joke and laughter. And if they don’t get it – they don’t get it. You don’t put people or things on pedestals, even though you have heroes. You still realize they put their underwear on one leg hole at a time…just like you.
You want the world to be better. That’s where your anger and courage come from. The thing is you’re always healing. You’re picking up butterflies who’ve lost part of a wing and moving them out of the parking lot and you’re listening to the kid down the street tell you about his crappy love life. You water your friends’ plants when you visit because they (the plants, not your friends) look thirsty. You’ve surreptitiously pulled recyclables out of your best friend’s kitchen trash can and put them where they’re “supposed” to be. You are the person that friends, family and strangers call first for help. Unless they don’t. Because they don’t want your advice. It drives you crazy when they don’t listen. But you’re learning. You are learning that to change the world you can’t possibly do it all. So you’re focusing on those you can most help. And you’re trusting that the energy, the universe, the source is sorting it all out. That way you can heal.
You want to answer the big questions.
But you’d like to balance the checkbook too. You’re learning to ride the rollercoaster between material and spiritual and you’re finding out that there are no wrong answers. There are, however, spaces you can fit in that feel most in alignment with you. Answering the big questions is this big, fat, epic adventure and it scares the crap out of you, but you’re doing it. On your own terms and in your own way and that is freaking awesome.
You have crappy, crummy, the car won’t start and my back is killing me days.
And you don’t pretend you don’t. You don’t think it’s a sign from above that you’re life is worthless either. You rant and you rave and you kvetch. And then you get over it. You get sick of listening to your own whining so you go back to bed, or toss a medicine ball or write a love song. You don’t put on a fake face and spread sunshine doo-doo on the crappy days. You just do what needs to get done (like clean the closet) and then move on. I think I love this most of all about you. Not because I want you to have crappy days – - I don’t. But I sure as hell feel better knowing that I’m not the only one. Not about misery loving company, you know. But knowing that we’re all in the human soup together.
How do I know all this stuff about you?
While you were sleeping I sent a little fairy to put a chip in your brain so that I could spy on you. (I love you because you KNOW this isn’t true. Fairies NEVER do what I tell them to!) But do ask me someday about the time I met someone who thought I really had these magical fairies. that wasn’t so much fun as it sounds.
I know it because I love you. Because I learned it through me – we’re all connected in a freaky, cosmic, energetic sense and that means I get to “get” you. And love you. And learn from you. That’s how I know.
What about you? What do you love? Do you really like grapefruit?