Inappropriate and sometimes downright aggressive encounters are not rare in the life of women today. All women, to varying degrees, experience some form of misogyny, disrespect, or overstepping of boundaries just too consistently.
Yesterday I was awakened from a hazy sleep with a text from my landlord asking if I had a check ready for rent and I popped out of bed, immediately wrote one out, and handed it to her as she ran by with her dog, Pepper. Even though I felt a bit chagrined that I had forgotten to put the rent in the dropbox a day before, ran out with a sweatshirt hastily pulled over my slip and was caught sleeping in like a teenager- I was grateful.
I had the joy of celebrating this past weekend– and celebrating hard. With friends and family clustering around at every side throughout, it was well worth putting my phone down, laptop away, and simply being with my most adored ones.
This week I shared drinks on the sunlit porch of Hank’s conversing about life, work, projects and everything in between. When my home came up in conversation, my friend jokingly but truthfully mentioned that I’d never invited him over to hang out. Strangely enough, I didn’t feel bad about my lack of hospitality at all.
This Saturday we finally celebrated my mother’s fabulous marriage at a bridal shower that was beyond special. A bit belated, but perfect regardless.
When I think of my mother, my mama, my friend- thousands of memories and emotions come rushing to the forefront of my mind. A woman exceptional, the stream of her presence is almost unbreakable and her place in many a history so strong it’s almost as if she’s sitting next to me. Those memories- they play like an old film reel, fleeting and sometimes grainy, sometimes highly defined- on a soft loop as I stare at the wall like a cat with nothing to do.
I dream a lot. I dream vividly and lucidly and remember clusters of them like they were pulled from a photo album or notes in a journal from last week. Sometimes my dream world becomes so rich and evocative that it comes close to a dangerous escape from reality, my pillow a ship to worlds unknown and the sheets wings of creamy high thread count to adventures that await.
I’m sitting in my dimly lit living room with M83 playing in the background, grapefruit La Croix in reach, snuggled into my new little body pillow covered in cats (thank you, Lisa) thinking about… marriage.
As my mom and I walked outside her house across craggy little Washington rocks along the beach in Gig Harbor, I scanned the vast landscape of a million eco systems with expert eyes: eyes that have taken in creatures and the skeletons of creatures year after year, eyes that hone in on a special little gift from the ocean or a fumbling, tumbling miniature crab trying to make its way back under a comforting rock.
I imagine the heavy thrum I hear when inside an airplane being similar to that of what a baby experiences in the womb.