Explain Yourself

House Episode:
"I am attracted to damaged people."
"That explains everything."

Life and Work and Kate and Leopold

So, I've just survived two weeks of proposal hell. Shipped off our response on Friday around 1:00 PM and took the rest of the day off. While I was working on the proposal, several things became evident to me:
I was the only person in the office on Memorial Day weekend.
I was the only person in the office the following weekend.
Of the people who will profit if the proposal succeeds, I profit the least.
A costing dilemma makes the odds of the contract being awarded to us about 3%.
I am sacrificing my personal time with family and loved ones for naught.
I developed an illness during this time, but postponed caring to my own care so I would be able to fulfill my commitment to my employer.
It matters not in the least.

At the end of my life, (or even next week) not one person from that office will be present. Not one person from that office has regard for me as a human being. I am tool. (Not the way one would ever want to be considered a "tool" if one were considered in such a derogatory manner.)

So, this afternoon, as I finally catch up on my laundry, do some dusting, nurse my sinus and bronchial infection, I am watching Kate and Leopold- a not all that well-regarded romantic film of years back, yet I find it charming. And in even this light-hearted environment, I see the mirror and the window. A reflection of my sacrifice to unworthy work and the sacrifice of my better skills.

On the topic of seeing what is invisible to one another, one character, Stuart, explains:
Stuart: It is no more crazy than a dog finding a rainbow. Dogs are colourblind, Gretchen. They don't see colour. Just like we don't see time. We can feel it, we can feel it passing, but we can't see it. It's just like a blur. It's like we're riding in a supersonic train and the world is just blowing by, but imagine if we could stop that train, eh, Gretchen? Imagine if we could stop that train, get out, look around, and see time for what it really is? A universe, a world, a thing as unimaginable as colour to a dog, and as real, as tangible as that chair you're sitting in. Now if we could see it like that, really look at it, then maybe we could see the flaws as well as the form. And that's it; it's that simple. That's all I discovered. I'm just a... a guy who saw a crack in a chair that no one else could see. I'm that dog who saw a rainbow, only none of the other dogs believed me.

I feel as if I was the only dog who could see the rainbow. It is not the first time. It (I hope) will not be the last.

I dream my life, and it is so different from where I reside.But I am here now. One can be misplaced for a time. But eventually, to survive, evolve, we seek our optimum environment.

I have worked day jobs to pay the rent, then the mortgage. It is not dishonerable to earn a living in a manner that does not use of one's best abilities, is it?

Kate: I've been paying dues all of my life. And I'm tired, and I need a rest, and if I have to peddle a little pond scum to get one, then so be it.

Yes, it is exhausting to play out your talents for the beneift of others in missions in which you have no percentage, little faith, and no appreciation of your efforts. It could possibly be debilitating if you do it too long.

So who does Kate find to love in such a world; who but a man of good manners, intelligence, graciousness, and honor. He observes:

Leopold: What has happened to the world? You have every convenience and comfort, yet no time for integrity.

Bring me Leopold and if it mean that I set aside my current life and leap into the realm of an honor from time past, then so be it. I would gladly give up the clothes dryer, internet, dishwasher, vehicles, the rancid stink of the insincere. Oh, I know that that last item exists in every time, but I don't have to accept it, embrace it.

And in the end, Kate says this:
It's wonderful to get what you want. It's really a great thing..unless what you thought you wanted wasn't really what you wanted because what you really want, you couldn't imagine or didn't think it was possible.-What if someone came along who knew exactly what you wanted without even asking? They just knew, like they could hear your heart beating or listen to your thoughts..and what if they were sure of themselves and didn't need to take a poll..and they loved you, and you hestitated?...

What you hear . . .

when you are listening for something else can be exactly what you needed to hear all along.

On Saturday I went to Ramshead to hear Will Hoge perform. However, the warm up performer, Katie Herzig, played music that tugged at my heart and filled my mind with thought. To quote her web site's description of her music, it is "a spellbinding, uniquely immersive listening experience that deftly manages to be at once playful and impassioned - challenging and comfortable - intimate and epic." The cellist that plays with her is part of the magic of this group.

"Hologram" speaks to my psyche and "I hurt too" to my love (for want of the accurate word) life. But it's "Forevermore" and "Wish you well" that makes it all come undone with memories of my childhood and missing people who are irrecoverably lost to us. Forevermore sent me searching for Peggy Bittner but she is not to be found on Twitter or Facebook but as girls we performed the Playmate song with a painted cardboard box as our set. Our houses were caty-corner in St. Petersburg, Florida, and we walked to Blanton Elementary School together most days.

I've moved too many times, shedding best friends all along the map. It's not so much that I want them back, but I want them happy and I wish there was a directory where we could find one another without intruding. Mine would read, "Healthy, thriving, still writing and dancing, still pensive, still has a troubled heart." I think Peggy's would read, "Still laughing everyday, mother to three towhead girls, running a bird sanctuary in Southern Florida, happily married."

On Understanding

The further I travel, the more lost I become. The more I learn, the less I understand. So most of the time, I just trust the process and the random energy of the universe to deliver what I need to know when I need to know it. Sometimes that can be quite uncomfortable.

It is a little like living the life of Alice in Wonderland. On reading Jabberwocky, she responds:

"It seems very pretty," she said when she had finished it, "but it's rather hard to understand!" (You see she didn't like to confess even to herself, that she couldn't make it out at all.) "Somehow it seems to fill my head with ideas--only I don't exactly know what they are! However, somebody killed something: that's clear, at any rate---"

Pain and Conflict

"Pain and conflict are, to a large extent, the result of a discrepancy
between the way we think others should treat us, react to us, and
appreciate us, and the way they actually do. Many of our miseries are
thus rooted in self-pity, the most worthless of all human emotions."

--Ann Davies, Qabalist teacher

Cinco de Mary

The most important celebration is only 8 days away. Yes, it's almost Cinco de Mary day! A few months ago, I bought tickets to a show at Ramshead Tavern for this coming Saturday. For the past few years, I plan an event of some sort on or around my birthday so that I can't lament that someone else did not. It turned out particularly well last year as the entire critique group joined me on the Cinco de Mayo cruise out of Annapolis.

I'd forgotten who I was going to see this Saturday, but I was delighted to discover that it is Will Hoge. Now I just have one dilemma - two tickets; one for me and another one as yet unclaimed. So if you are a big fan of Will Hoge, let me know.

The Vagabond Heart

Loves,
I have been untrue. You are betrayed, abandoned:
not for want of some other's heart but
for my failure to ever fully embrace that does not
permit abandonment by lack of possessing.

Possession is not needed. Jealousy is a shadow
by the dumpster that I do not visit.

Dark horse; mad one; butterfly; cinnamon girl;
gypsy; cold-hearted witch, sad case.
Leaving is easier if you attach a label.

Do not mistake this announcement. Your heart
cracks my chest, every day. Because I have never
really held you, never unveiled my eyes, never
took it all in to the tipping point.

I have loved you in the palm of my hand,
in the crook of my neck, in the bend of my knee.
You deserve more than that. Your love is assured,
a debutante of affection, a monument of conviction,
a canyon of generosity, a hummingbird's beat of hope.

Lucky is your heart in my departure. Lucky found and
lucky lost. Like a bead of sweat down your side in the
heat of summer, embrace the chill and delight of the
uncontrollable release. It is natures way of balancing
the heat of the body.

Walk on By

Yes, it is another one of those days when my horoscope is so accurate that I suspect the writer has been folowing my blog, reading my tweets, stalking me on facebook!

Horoscope for today: Saturday, Apr 18th, 2009 -- You want to take care of those you love, yet you might not want them to know how involved you are in their lives. Part of your current dilemma is that you are connected with your friends and family, even though you're motivated now to increase their independence. It's easy to act as if you are emotionally detached. However, it takes a lot more work to truly give others the freedom they need.

Both of my children (28 and 18) have become more independent this year. Dylan at University of Maryland does not ask for money or food or advice. He moves smoothly through his classes this semester, doing the hard work, managing to eat and sleep enough, exercises and spends time with his friends, returns home to share holiday with friends. I resist phoning him, checking up on him, hugging him too much when I do see him.

Sara has a strong ring of friends that have been onher side since she was a child and now she has a man in her life who is her daily witness, so I am not. Lately we find ourselves unavailable to talk when the other is available so that days slip by without speaking. Neither of us minds so much as we recognize that it is different than it was a year ago. She has heard me spin my dreams of moving away, of shedding my life, for enough years to know that although I want to go, I don't want to be distant from her or Dylan.

But those are not the only people that come to mind when I read this horoscope. When you have been close with someone but realize that you are not ultimately going to enrich their lives; then even if you have a selfish desire to hear from them, to know that they are well, you cannot. To contact them at all distracts and delays them from the very place they must go.

So if you see me walking down the street, just walk on by..."

Detours and noise

Late Thursday afternoon, a red car sped off College Parkway, dumping itself into a ditch backwards and somehow losing its roof. I was commuting to my house to gather materials to teach Business Writing in Waldorf that night. Emergency crews and police had blocked the street at both ends denying me access to my community. After an obsequious plea to the local "authority", he deigned to move an orange cone and permit me to my home (which was no where near the actual accident).

The two lane parkway, usually a constant stream of vehicles so that I imagine that I live near the ocean and late at night transform the flow of traffic into a surf landing on the beach that is just feet from my doorstep. This works until a Harley trespasses my illusions, although I transform it into a late night teen escape on a dune buggy digging through the packed sand.

I drove solo down College Parkway to my community. Silent silent. I creep the Prius, running on electric, so that no sound intruded. The stealth was intoxicating. And the silence.

Sally and I took our walk to the sound of birds nesting. I had not noticed them at that time of day despite the visual presence. Now a symphony of nesting of the birds camouflaged on high branches drew up my chin, perked Sally's ears.

By the time I left for class the flood of vehicles had returned. If you don't hear the birds or see the birds, are the birds still there? Does it matter if it doesn't heal your soul?

Then tonight, Friday eve, I start up College Parkway, windows open, sunlight and warmth for the first time this week. Headed west the traffic grew heavy, tight, nose to bumper close that could only mean an accident on Route 50 had detoured everyone onto College Parkway. Had they been headed east, I'd still be on the road. With every inch I traveled closer to home, however,I knew there could be no retreat; no west bound retreat. I could travel further east toward the sea, but no easy return to the society to the west.

At home, Sally and I go out and the rumble of the 16 wheelers and rusted pick-ups. Sally grows nervous, pulls to return home, to the back deck to warn the squirrels away, where she does not hear the squeal of breaks or smell the exhaust. I follow her. I know I am not trapped here. Though there is too much air in this narrow house for one person, there is too much to remind one. So if I stand at the very back of the deck and peer into the woods, imagine there is no end to them, imagine I migh walk until exhaustion sets the clock; I feel my soles on the spring floor and walk until dark and dig a shallow hollow and sleep in the arms of the earth. We bury ourselves, don't we? Isn't everyone mired somehow?

It's just what you need.

For want of a nail. . .

There is no easy way back. My
name is disappearing as I type,
each previous letter fading into
white.

Everyday more rocks in my
pockets, warming in my hand.
Does the water burn inside out?

Knowing Which Way you Want to Go

It is always best to ask an authority

Today, I put in my contacts (green tinted ones - I like to see who is paying attention). However, I happened to put in only the ones for seeing things close. That means the things at a distance are blurry, without refined edges. So I'm having something of a Monet day. Rain on the pavement is a pewter veil. The neon letters shimmer as if buried in a lake. At three feet, no one has wrinkles or acne or scars.


Of course, I could go remedy the error but it is teaching me something, and today seems like a good day for introspection.

So this accident inspires me to think a bit deeper, to consider the limits of perception, as well as the small things that inspire us.

March Progress - too much?

Lucky, lucky, lucky Mary!

Through the recommendation and reaching out of a former colleague, I was contacted regarding a position as a proposal writer (Government RFP writing). Bring it on.

The ability to cull through dense documents packed with extraneous and repetitious verbiage is one of the strengths I possess. Then the ability to analyze needs, desires, wants, and the words that speak to my audience; well, that is the icing. Now I have a position where I can be the substance and the icing (eventually - I mean I just started Monday).

Still, I was unemployed for almost 3 months and the collateral damage is approximately $8-10K. But I'm still teaching and now working full-time once again, and I have learned to live lean (that part doesn't hurt a bit - although I did recently see a pair of shoes and think "Wow. Could I buy those?").

Most surprising is how much of your self-esteem runs down the drain during unemployment. I am still wondering every day if they will want me to come back the next. The night before my first day, I spent hours wondering if I should even start.

However, the owner and principle is a smart, strong, generous, and thoughtful woman who sees my potential and is willing to mentor me to success, to all of our success.

I can promise this much, I will pay it back in kind or pay it forward.

Lucky, lucky, lucky. I am one of the lucky Irish.

Enough Said?

No. 2: Warren Buffett
Net Worth: $37 billion
(Was No. 1 last year, lost $25 billion over the past year.)
Source: Investments/U.S.
Age 78. Widowed, remarried; three children.

Last year America's most beloved investor was the world's richest man. This year he has to settle for second place after losing $25 billion in 12 months. Shares of Berkshire Hathaway are down 45% since last March.

If Uncle Warren is not able to swim this sea, who will?

We will. We, the capitalist Americans who know that work and performance and quality and product matter. If the banks fail, there will be a new way. This is not the first time. This time, though, the value will be tangible. Be tangible. It's March. Let the wind blow.

March is my month

Beware the ides of March.

Or welcome the ides of March. I do.

Tonight it is snowing - finally. Like the apex of the arch, I have been suspended, waiting, waiting, waiting. Now the snow falls, and I descend.

Many months ago, a sooth-sayer spoke to me; she told me that I would meet my true love in March - or rather that I would find true love in March.

Today is March 1st. I am alone. Snowflakes blanketing the apple blossom tree across the street; snowflakes in Sally's hair; snowflakes on my shoulders, my face; snowflakes carpeting the deck; snowflakes shrouding the details, covering the grim, removing the stain. I have waited for snow.

Snow is sacred to me; my metaphor for beginning. I know most prefer spring but I prefer snow. Cover me, bury me, let the ugly decay and fall away and the green stem beneath erupt in the sun.

The crocus are already above ground. Bent yellow heads shaped like closed tulips resting in the snow, what do they say to me?

Here is the quiet night--the pause--before it all begins again. Cherish this moment. Soon the winds of March will knock my socks off!

Red Hot Poker

Tonight, four of the precious members of my creative writing critique group met at an India of Annapolis on West Street. First, let me just say, the food, the wine, the service capture what taste and customer service define: Delicious and attentive.

But the delicacy of the evening is this - I write to them from my heart of hearts. I have been balancing on the high wire of a story for over a decade, balancing on metaphor and simile, sometimes in a sonnet and sometimes in free verse. Tonight, I read the words that were the most difficult.

I thank them but not with words that I can heave into my mouth. They understand the process, the lifeblood, the pulse, of the creative process - the becoming. There are few places where a writer feels like they might undress, knowing there is much, much at fault, and yet knowing, beneath, the bones are solid, strong, and telling. They help me prop the skeleton against the wall and discover the being. I am forever grateful.

Now I just need that red hot poker to keep me writing, writing, writing, the next untold truth (according to me).

Re-incarnated in Unemployment

Unemployment allows me to have shows on during the day that others watched. "Dead Like Me" is a program that comes on in the evenings; I was working days, some nights, and in graduate school and didn't see some series. I have never watched a single episode of "The Sopranos." I don't subscribe to Showtime or Cinemax.

But during daytime programming, they show last seasons episodes. Today, I am becoming acquainted with "Dead Like Me" as I file papers, submit resumes, floss, play with Sally.

"Dead Like Me" features characters who died but did not pass over; rather they exist on earth as grim reapers, escorting the dying through death. I see them as the scores of unemployed, wandering the job market, meeting the newly disenfranchised, sharing secrets and systems of survival in this incarnation.

"The more I try to hold onto my life, the less life I have," says the young protagonist. Indeed. Unemployment creates, well, actually a void. But also unlimited possibility. Actually, not unlimited. I will never be a professional ballerina or ice skater; too late to join the Peace Corp. And it is unlikely that I can even start a new career in medicine or the law, become a horse trainer, pursue an acting career,

"Why do I keep losing all the things and people I care about?" our young protagonist asks. "That what life is," the wizened friend tells her. The viewer is told to try to understand what is left behind.

I cannot decipher the message. Not yet. Most people I meet are in a panic or stumbling into despair about the economy. I cannot. Perhaps it is denial. Perhaps it is because even if everything fails, I get to choose this day, my emotional reaction, my moment, right now. I choose hope, courage, laughter, and a small square of chocolate.

Join me in Creative Journaling

Mary Bargteil is leading a creativity workshop for Anne Arundel Community College.

What is creative journaling? For every student, the creative journal will be a unique, rich reservoir. Through a series of exercises, writers discover the story inside the story, the poem within the poem. For the photographer or painter, discover a new way of seeing the subject, the landscape, the interior.

We will use a variety of prompts and interactive exercises to build a collection of ideas and insights to enrich your creative work.

Dates: Feb. 10, Feb.17, Feb. 24
Hours: 6:30-9:00 PM
Location: Arnold Campus, 101 College Parkway
Course Number: WRG-313-101
Register here!

I encourage you

I have been one of the round robin poets at this event in the past. Not this year. BUT it is a worthwhile event, a unique experience. I encourage you to attend.

Event: Spread the Love, Share the Warmth
Time: Sunday 15 February, Start Time: 19:00 PM
Location: Metro Gallery, 1700 North Charles St., Baltimore, 21201, US

To RSVP or view the invitation, go to MySpace:
http://events.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=events.detail&eventID=486356.7654&hashcode=dfc9c9c8-f8b8-4eb8-b237-ab6c62940b78

Be the change you want to see!

Best advice

Surround yourself with your friends. They will care for you - it is so clear to me how much they love you.