Hello...

I haven't been here for a while, because for a long time, I felt I had nothing of merit to say. At first it was because I felt incredibly boring...middle aged/menopausal woman - blah...happily married - yawn...stepmom to two adult children - nothing new to see here. Then it was because I was so terribly, profoundly, deeply grieved, and someone else's grief does begin to exhaust folks who aren't in it with you and even those who are. It also seemed, suddenly to me, the entire world got so brutally LOUD. I didn't want to say something because I felt I had nothing. Nothing interesting, nothing that did more than simply add to the noise.

Here's the thing (because there's always a thing) yes, I know there are many, many, MANY important even life threatening things happening in the world. Of course we should raise our voices and vote our conscious. We should fight injustice, and hold accountable those who abuse their power and privilege to oppress. We should also listen to those who have been running the race and fighting the fight for generations. We should, and I do...but I won't here. Not really. Not overtly. I simply can't. I don't have the answers, and sometimes I don't even know how to ask the questions. I cannot be a voice who speaks without full knowledge or authority. I know reading other's research doesn't equal doing one's own. Hang in, because it's not about this.

I am aware that not using this space to move toward equality and justice and right is born out of privilege. In all honesty, my life doesn't depend on it. It doesn't mean I don't care; it means I don't have to live every second like it does depend on it. That's privilege for anyone who is confused. I will boost other voices I believe can speak to the issues I hold dear on other platforms, but I won't pretend that anything I write will have any real value. I won't insert myself into places where I have no footing, where I'm a distraction. I won't add to the sound without adding to the substance. 

So now that I've hopefully explained what this place is and what I won't do, let's figure out what I will or what I hope to do. I hope to encourage you to look at others through a softer lens, the candlelight filter perhaps. I also want to encourage you to take a gentler look at yourself...to allow grace when needed, forgiveness when earned, love when merited, and joy when possible to yourself first, so you can extend those perfectly lovely things to others in a real way.

Let's not get confused, I'm not all live-love-laugh/coffee o'clock and wine-thirty/boss babe either. First, coffee yum/wine yuck so that would never work. I'm too much of an introvert to boss anyone, and I've lived-loved-laughed in the nineties - I'm not wearing that trend again. Like ever.

Now that I've written my mission statement of sorts, the disclaimer I guess, let's actually do something here, but do let's keep with the theme because every English teacher I've ever had said that's how this is supposed to work. Here we go...finally.

I notice posts/memes/missives floating around about how we used to go to Grandma's house on Sunday and spend time with family doing something called visiting. For those of us who have forgotten what that is due to isolation, ball games, work, laundry, genuine malaise, flat out dislike of people in general or whatever you've been up to, visiting is being in the presence of others, making eye contact, listening and talking, reminiscing, telling jokes and stories, laughing and crying with other people. You remember, like together with people who do not live inside your house. Spending time, which is finite and valuable, not just with each other but on each other.

People my age (ugh - that's just -ugh) remember stopping by someone's house (Don't do it. I mean it. I'll be in my panda nightgown for sure.) or seeing circles of lawn chairs in people's yards, gatherings on porches, the "adults" lingering around the table just talking. Just...visiting. We don't do that, not really. We pontificate, proselytize, and regurgitate* the headlines we read, the "research" we've done, the sound bite we found oh so clever and we "look at this meme -- boy that says it all." No. It doesn't.  (Unless it's that weird white cat thing with its arms spread. That one really does say it all.) We argue and silence and shout over, and yes, sometimes those things are not just necessary but mandatory. But, I believe true and real human interaction that seems to not move a cause or ideology forward is still incredibly necessary. Our souls need it. Lately, those moments of ease of conversation are often the only parts that remind us that we are all people trying to figure it out. Failures and successes, joy and sorrow, fear and bravery...we are all made of stories, experiences, beliefs, hopes, losses. We are all beauty and ashes.

That's what I want to talk about, sitting on my porch with you (not really, not yet, panda nightgown is super comfortable). This place can be my existential porch swing. We'll start here and see where it goes.

I want to know what's planted in your garden - literally and figuratively. I want to hear KP talk about Disney. SDK about Newton Eagle Football. CS about glorious shoes (sole sister for real, pun intended). DG about waterfalls. JM about her freshman. KGC about things that gross me out, man. HBF about her plans for next summer with no travel ball. KL about mid-century modern everything. JGM about her brother.

Add your initials and your thing. I want that. I don't want a headline you read; I want the headline you live.

Welcome back. I hope you sit for a moment and visit. If you don't like the topic, no worries, it'll change shortly. Leave your shoes and your drama at the threshold - they'll be there when you leave. Hopefully, you take with you a little bit of peace and at least a small measure of "oh that was nice". Maybe you'll even lessen some of your burden, because it's been replaced with a different perspective. In other words, leave some of your hell and take some of the fresh.

See you all soon. Don't forget your shoes.

*KMG hates the word p*ke more than I love an alliteration. Respect to her.)