I am all that I wish to be today

It's so easy to forget how much influence I really have on my life. It is so easy to forget everything that I am, everything that I offer, everything that I once dreamed I could be. But now, today, in this moment...

I am all that I wish to be.

I am beautiful, though my pants may be tight lately...
I am smart, though some days I feel blank and numb...
I am creative, though often I stare at blank pages...
I can sing, though I've made a habit of silencing myself...
I can love, though I often try to run away...
I can be happy, though sometimes the clouds seem so gray...

I can create my reality. I can let people get to me, or accept them for who they are and where they are in their process. I can let people define me, or I can constantly re-define myself.

I had an aha moment the other day.

I don't maintain a passion for much these days. The things that used to give me such inertia now are commonplace and mundane. Yet one of the things that I have really been able to maintain a passion for is communication, though it's guise has changed. I used to be a child of poetry, however raw or bad or dark it may have been in those days. I have been struggling to rekindle that relationship with words, trying and straining myself further into apathy. Yet all that time I was formulating a new relationship with words, something that was young and exhilarating in the same way as a new courtship. In my last few semesters of college I switched my degree from a BS to a BA, which required 2 years of a foreign language.

Now, it's nothing new to say that I have always maintained something of a romantic sentiment for the sound of foreign languages... the different shapes that they form on the tongues of their native speakers... the way the consonants and vowels paint distinctive pictures that distort when translated...

And i've noticed an almost... urgency... in the embrace of my language of choice. I have recently taken up spanish (more out of practicality than anything), and now I cannot get enough of the sound of it. Yet where I have always been enamored with the sound of a foreign language, there is an elation when the sound is coupled an understanding. Now, don't get me wrong, I am nowhere near fluent (I am just to the point where I can hold down a fairly basic conversation). That fact has become a driving force in my pursuit of this language, my Rhiannon....

Maybe I have reached a limit within my own language, and to carry on that thirst for communication I have to search for my bounty elsewhere...

At this point, I have only one regret in life. A regret of a burned bridge, up in flames at the expense of someone who did not deserve it. I left him to burn on that bridge, a fire started by the flames in my heart.

And then I had a dream last night, a dream in which I was forgiven for my youthful rage, my hasty indiscretions...

If you ever lay eyes on this, I'm sorry... and I hope you are happy.

I just wish you would look at me the way that you used to, back when i was such a magical creature, a mythic thought reserved only for your dreams and when you looked at the sea...


I remember the first time I heard it... when your tongue seemed to taste my name when you said it... "i love you Danielle"... as if savoring the flavor of the emotion... There seems to be little that you savor these days. Yet I need you to know that I still look at you as that mythical figure tending your fire, the light glowing softly on your cheek... the fire burning brightest in your eyes.

You said that you could say the same for me... that you wish that I would look at you the way that I used to... and so now I am looking at that image burned into my brain... I still feel your arms around me in that lightning storm on the mountain top... I still feel the ocean spray licking softly at my skin, with the sensation of your eyes upon me overshadowing even her greatness...

You are my family. You are my home.

I love you with everything that I have.

Lover scorned

The sea betrayed me last weekend... now I have a lovely sun burn and a weird lesion on my leg that slightly resembles either a jellyfish sting or the black death...

But it was good to see her, as always. Yet I have to admit, it was hard for me to connect with her like I used to. Before, all it took was a single glimpse and I was there with her spirit, blended into her rolling waves and feeling as special and as embraced as every single droplet of water that she envelopes into her body like a mother with a child. I would swim for hours, allowing her strength to dominate the comparatively inconsequential weight of my body with the passionate surrender of a lover...

Now, I hold the position of a lover scorned... still in love yet tentative to surrender again. I can't say exactly why. No incident has passed to give reason to my malcontent...

"Jump" was my mantra.

Yet my hesitation remained...

I feel as if a journey began with my strained relations with the sea... No more standing still, and much to relearn...

So I accidentally deleted all of my links when I changed my layout... so I am slowly but surely rebuilding that section of my blog.

Although, it seems a bit like my old link list served more as a grave yard than anything. So many blogs have hung up their hats. It's too bad... so many people silencing themselves after so many years.

I am on my way to California... to see that which makes me the happiest, that which understands me more than anything...

Can't wait to see the sea.

It has been raining for like 2 weeks straight.

Apparantly Utah felt bad because it forgot about the whole april showers thing...

Because it was snowing.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mind a good summer thunder storm equipped with pretty lightning and a break from the heat. But when a wall of water towed by the four horseman of the apocalypse happens upon me during my tuesday night beach volleyball league... i tend to get a little irritated.