very, very low tide

The morning commute is a breeze when you live by the ocean. The light is surreal as the sun comes up, and colors shout at you from everywhere you turn…in a kind way. Loud, but with very nice expressions…

You do run into the occasional pelicans splattered all over the causeway, or the  blackbirds with very yellow eyes who fly right into your windshield, but that might just be because they hadn’t had their coffee yet..or maybe because you haven’t…That can ruin your day. But those happen so seldom, it’s not even worth mentioning.

Every once in a while, though, you have the phenomenons that leave you thinking that all those scify movie directors are mere copycats…like snow on the beach. With all the birds still pretending that nothing happened. Or the still ocean; no ripple, no whisper, no sign of life other than the people walking their dogs or jogging; just a still, silver, mesmerizingly shiny puddle, reflecting the teal of the sky.

Or the low tide. When the boat got stuck, I laughed. It was funny. The next morning, driving to work, I sipped my coffee and it got stuck to my throat! Where is the water? The marshes that play the sun rays for me in the morning, like an antique harmonica, and show me their true colors, were not there anymore! Where did the water go? The ocean was still there yesterday!?! I checked!! Still and quiet, but there…

I ran to the beach. It was still there. I went to the office, signed in and went to look for my pillar of wisdom in all things fishy…who was busy, but gave me a very quick explanation of the phenomenon: “it’s low tide”. “I got that! But this is the no water kinda thing, never mind the tide”. “It’s a very low tide” the answer came imperturbably. I felt the blood rushing through my brain like a hot shower. “There is no water left! What tide?”…

“It’s a very, very low tide. It happens. We didn’t have enough rain. It will come back. Now go back to work.” I walked up the stairs, half of my heart trusting the promise. The other half was laughing its arteries off…

Soon there’ll be rain, and the water will come back. And order will be restored. And the sunrise will color me bright again. So now we wait.

forever keep your peace..

I like to use my ears to listen to things, and occasionally my whole body. I learned that from one of my friends in high school who was deaf. There is something uncomfortable about trying to use another sense as a replacement…especially when few can understand what you’re doing and you have to put it in words, with all the whys, and hows, and whens…Maybe that’s when my whole perception about music got spoiled….maybe that’s why the only way I define unwind is by being completely out of whatever else happens, alone in the loud, listening to all the separate sounds. They do sound so different taken alone…

The ’90 had really good music. You had a little bit of everything to pick from, and a lot of great stuff in each kind. A lot of great names became known because they were really good at their music, or they were really original. Or they were really good looking and all of the above!

Music seems to be made for eyes now. Follow so-and-so on twitter to see who he hangs out with, what he drank and what his wife said when she left him. Oh, he is awesome! But did you see that sweater he was wearing? You can buy it at Target…I like the sound of that, too, but…where’s the music?! And who did you say this was? Never heard him sing, play , jam, or whatever it’s called these days… but that’s just me…

I needed my loud today, but, unfortunately, I never made to my safe cave today…I felt the roar coming and, though I tried as hard as I could, I could not stop the words from bursting through my lips. An avalanche of “a piece of my mind” covered everything and everyone… As the words were rolling away, I looked around and the audience was completely still, frozen with fear. You could see the shards of ice on their skin…The cold in the air was the only thing that stopped me. My great-grandma gave me many old continent bits of wisdom, but one popped in my head as the echo of my voice was bouncing off the walls…you can’t un-ring that bell. You can fix things, but parts will always be jaded from that blow. You’ll always see that dent, not because it’s obvious, but because you know you made it.

No loud today. I got a text halfway through the day “I didn’t hear your leaving today”…well, that’s because a part of me will never leave that spot, trying to un-ring that bell, stuck in a temporal rut, all in my head…half of me broke the code…my temper had the best of me… There is no going back. There is no going. There is just a long and heavy silence that broke the window to a really nice view…

But loud, as loud came, sounded like a whisper today. No wonder they did not hear me leave…it’ll be a miracle if they ever see me coming…

 

yes, ma’am, my music is loud!

My car has a Bose system. I like my car. I like my music. Loud. I don’t yell, well, not much, and not at people, just at life and the walls in my office…sometimes…I don’t curse. I don’t smoke. I don’t drink…I listen to music in my car. Loud. Only when I drive. And that is not a lot…

At one of the lights this morning a lady gave me the look…she squinted…whatever people call it these days…I turned my gaze to the front and waited patiently for the light to change. It was too early for a drag race anyway… She put down her window and signaled me to put mine down too…Ha! It’s freezing cold out there and my coffee didn’t even make past the esophagus…are you kidding me? I smiled and the light turned green. I peeled off. She changed lanes and followed me close… What is this?! After Thanksgiving road rage? The street is clear! C’mon, I wasn’t so loud! Well, maybe a little….ok, a lot, but you didn’t have to listen to it! I tried to lose you!

She kept behind me close. A few lights down, I saw it turn orange…oh, no! Sure enough, she came to my side, rolled down her window and signaled me with her dry, boney finger to put mine down too. Yes, ma’am, it’s loud music, it’s not a crime! I looked for the gun, but couldn’t see one, so, reluctantly, I put my window down an inch or two and turned my music off to hear what she had to say. Her face lit up and a smile stretched her thin lips “What was that song that you were listening to? My grandson loves it. What’s it called?” I heard the words, saw her lips moving, but the sounds just didn’t stick together enough to make sense….”What?”…”The song. I love it! What’s it called? You know, when I was your age I used to listen to music like that…but now I can’t hear anything much…but I still love it”….

The light changed and my mouth uttered an answer to her question. I felt a sharp breeze on my cheek. I put my window up…

And it’s only Monday! Whew!….

murky waters..

There is something moving about men crying. By all “manly” social standards, the man card is completely lost if such instance occurred in public. The man would lose face to them all….But there is something amazing about a man crying. And as opposed to the manly rules, this actually scores big with the ladies…showing your inner softness often gets you sympathy, empathy, or even a golden aura…he shared his most inner feelings…ahhh…what a man!

But there’s something amazing about a man crying….especially when that happens in murky waters. And by that, I don’t mean situationally, but purely literary speaking… Let’s say you went fishing in your brand new boat…having set foot for the first time in a real boat, after having, of course, researched all there is to know about it, and “got it!”…and let’s say you got some friends along to share your newly developed boating awesomeness. Let’s only assume that you had no idea of what low tide can do to your boat, or where that low tide map, if one ever existed (of course they do), would be found – and for those of you who don’t still, no big deal, nothing major happens, you just get stuck in the mud until either high tide, or a passser-by takes pity on your “innocence” and takes you out…or until further, more resourceful solutions pop up in your brain, like using your anchor to pull yourself out of the rut..gotta hand it to the bright mind who came up with it…it surely added to the picture!…

It really does happen in real life…you know, forgetting a minor detail… like tide…and you can end up stuck in the middle of a vast shallow water surface without the real possibility to float anywhere. There is also the danger of tilting your boat on the side, in your desperate and panicked efforts to drag your self out of the swamp…and that is never a good thing…or trying to pull a Twain with your brand new fishing pole…that is about 6 foot long, but hardly the strength of a stick…magnesium alloy and all…

But what is most amazing than anything, is a man crying in the midst of this comedy, screaming “get me out of the murky waters! You don’t understand, I almost drowned when I was a child!”…

Do you have an answer to that? One that doesn’t hurt the poor fellow’s feelings…One that doesn’t involve laughing like a hyena until you cough up your lungs, and choke on your own saliva?…One that still keeps the man card in his pocket?…One that allows everyone to meet eyes without scurrying off your gaze?…well…if there is…I haven’t found it! And if you do, please share it. I’m pretty sure that sonars will be involved in the next boating get together, and the life vest will be worn, but I’m not sure I’m gonna be able to hold my breath and keep my tone even tomorrow when I exchange the morning vows…I guess it’s lucky he is not in my family…that would have been just wrong….

Stay safe out there! And if you need boating advice, Ask your friendly neighbor, but make sure he’s been doing this boating stuff for at least 10 years…apparently that the maximum it can take for one to have gone through all the bad things that can happen…

Have sunny week! keep smiling!

keep your ducks in a row!

With Fall almost “officially” of the way , the season is turning into white waters… racing through days and dragging all sorts of excitements along. Even the wilderness turns mellow and joins in the celebration…what is it in it for them? Why, the same as for all of us…the grub…for the hunger, for the soul, for the loneliness, for the fun…and for that sweet nectar, whatever it is for each of us, we play nice and smile sweet…and sometimes even end up on a pier, lined up and quiet, basking in the last rays of the sunset, and appearing to be rare birds indeed.

Today was meant to be all about the tree, but the flyers sold all sorts of things at almost ridiculous prices, and little feet wrote to Santa and stuck the letter on the fridge with shaky hands…and at the top of the list there’s a trampoline…so Santa went shopping…

There wasn’t much turmoil at the stores, most people being well mannered; only some spitting fire, maybe because they hadn’t slept since the early hours…For some reason people still insist on waking up in the middle of the night and stepping on each other for a playstation…and then of course they’ll grump out at all of us who had already had our steaming cup of joe, read the paper and showered copiously before stepping foot out the door…but that’s ok, some people need to feel young, one way or another…

I located the infamous jump station, called the help, and waited. A nice lady came to ask if I still needed help. ” Uhm, I think he is coming back…” she smiled and offered to help me, but I pointed at the 200 lbs boxes and her hands went up: “Say no more!” and vanished behind the shelves. The help came back with two others, loaded the boxes and escorted me to the car. One box was up, and as I turned around to see if they were done, I noticed that one of the men had stepped on the side of the flat bed to get closer to the trunk. I opened my mouth to say the words, and just like in the movies, the sound of a EMT siren rand behind me, just as the man laid flat on his face on the ground…I lent him a hand…”Uhm…you ok?”

I know, not the best question there is, but what else could I have asked? The EMTs were there, they saw the whole thing, they couldn’t stop laughing…no help, just giggles…definitely out of a movie! Who does that? The man was fine, he stood up and nothing was broken…well maybe just his self esteem…but he thanked me for the help, stood tall, and walked, limping a little, back into the store. I got in the car and continued my search for the items on Santa’s list…

A half a day later I pulled into my drive. “No, no, don’t park there!”. My spouse was restoring the ugly duckling, who now looks like a most elegant swan, and needed my parking spot to keep the swan dry in case of rain…It never came, but, then again, we all get in line with the other ducks, just so we don’t say we are not in the spirit of the season…so I moved my car to the curb. Little feet came looking. “Well…where is it?”. I made my look sweet, knowing what treasures I bear…”What?”. Little feet stood on tippy toes trying to sneak a peak in the car. “The tree! You went to get a tree, didn’t you?”…

The time stopped, rewound, and gave me plenty of reflection space…”Uhmm, no, we’ll go pick that together, of course! I just got the ornaments…” I received a serious look, but it seemed that my answer had been accepted as true. Whew!…Keeping your ducks in the row can be harder than you think sometimes…

It’s dark out there, the tree is here now, and so are all the goodies that go on it, around it, next to it, and so on. Let there be silence now. And since the pelicans came back, too…who knows what tomorrow brings…Happy Holidays! They’re all here.

I’ve got a motor!

Texas is a strange land…amazingly beautiful, but terribly capricious…Yesterday I thought the sky was out to get me at 1:00, and at 3:00 it was smiling at me with all the pink sun rays it had…I’m sure other places in the world are just like that, but where I came from things were quite dependable weather wise…you saw the clouds…it was going to rain soon, and for a day or two it would stay like that. You saw the sun, it meant it was going to be a nice day…maybe temperature wise not really, but at least a sunny day. But here everything is changing so fast! I feel like a kid in the candy store, I don’t have time to get bored of something because some other taste comes along…

I went shopping today. Early in the morning…well, maybe not early in other people’s idea, but early for me. There was almost no traffic…just me and the road. A beautiful brisk and sunny day. One hour later the asphalt was melting and the breeze had stopped. No humidity though, which was a saver.

I was trying on jeans in a shop when my phone rang. I tried to ignore it and stick to fitting, but it kept on, and on, and on…I answered. “I’ve got a motor!” my spouse’s excited voice pierced through the receiver…Uhm…nice! “What?” “I’ve got a motor for my boat! I’m going to get a license and go flounder fishing tomorrow!” …The jeans I was trying on looked great. Keeper! The voice kept on, and on, and on about some boat and license topic. Being well mannered, I kept interjecting here and there with an “oh!”, “really” ,”great”. But even my patience can run thin…or should I say, my patience ran thin very fast?! The later is more fitting in the context…so I explained my activity and stated the obvious reasons why I could not entertain the “awesomeness”. I promised I will call back as soon as I could.

In the car, on my way to the grocery stores, it hit me! Oh, dear! A motor means they will actually take out that ugly boat! Ghastly scenarios were switching through my brain, cold waters, currents, danger, recklessness I knew would be used…Oh, no! A few words still reverberated in my brain…flounder…low horse power…not fast…life vest…and slowly and carefully my synapses reconnected. I said a prayer. I will probably saying a whole lot of those in the days to come! Please say one for me if you have time…little foot is one wild child, and he will need all the divine hands to hold him still…or the vest…or both…Unless I find a drill anywhere and sink the ugly thing tonight…but would the hate be worth it? Maybe not….Oh, life…thou art hart on a parent somedays…

the quiet before the storm

The salt in the air makes breathing an adventure. Not in the hardship sense, but as it travels down towards the lungs, each breath is filled with tiny frenzy filled pods, driving senses berserk as they pop when reaching the destination…and I’m hooked…

The sky is heavy with expectation. A few drops touched my forehead…but they could have just as well been ocean splatters, jumping at me as I was kneeling to take the picture. I found myself driving down the seawall again without purpose…I vaguely remember pulling in a parking spot by the ocean and getting my camera out. The fog was just starting to set and the rocks were glistening in the dim light…the ocean was whispering quietly. As I walked closer and closer to the end of the pier, the murmur grew to a roar and the sky embraced me. The fog wrapped in my hair and my eyelashes were heavy with the tiny drops that were flying all around me. The ocean greeted me with a loud applause, and cast its foamy white gloves to my feet…then I saw it…

You know how sometimes you “just feel” that you have to run?!…The imminence of danger is so obvious, even if there is no real sign of anything wrong waiting to happen?… I turned around and started walking…Halfway to the shore I heard the call…I turned and the darkness hurled its arms at me…amazingly beautiful arms…soft looking….of the purest gray I’ve ever seen…

I turned back and ran…I passed by an old man with a camera…”Run” I shouted. He smiled and stood still…”you fool!” my brain uttered…”you will get soaked!”…but no words came out and I got in the car as it started to pour…the ocean was still screaming at me with all its voices…I stood in the car, safe, dry, mesmerized, my heart beating out of my chest in excitement, my music blasting what was left of my lungs..for a few moments stuck in time…

Then the world stopped. All was quiet again…I got out like in a trance…took the camera and shot a few more pictures. The sand was soaked and everything smelled like new life. I filled my lungs to the brim and turned to work.

I’m sorry…

There is always a certain time for good byes, a time for hellos, a time for “get out”s, a time for “no way”s, a time for “whatever”s…but there is never a good time for “I’m sorry”s… They are never welcome…there is no good way to really express what you feel, and the fact that society emphasized repentance through words is surely not going to make it sound any better, or honest.

Hurting someone is definitely uncalled for…but what if your common sense told you there is absolutely nothing that could, would or should do any harm to others…And what if you did harmed someone, or someones, got swallowed by the whirlpool of feelings you have set in motion, both in you , and in the ones you inadvertently hurt, got spit out covered in venom, and felt hurt in turn? What if your trust gets shattered when you recognize that you are only entrusted with simple, impersonal items…but the important ones are dictated to you?

Where is the line between the recognition of true values, and trust in the later? Is there such thing as trust when it comes to our most intimate feelings? Or do we just play the old war rule: ” attack is the best defense” for fear of potential disappointment?

Whatever the answer, one thing is certain, there is no truth but the personal point of view. There is no guilt without sin, and there are no friendships without heartache….To you my new friend, who got caught in the friendly fire, I’m sorry! Thank you for giving me the opportunity to know you! And hopefully there is more to this story than a single chapter…but, of course, that is not for me to decide.

 

 

thy name is…

I had to change the name of my blog a few days ago.I was made aware that something is not entirely clear about that fine line between my work persona and my own self. So I picked the only constant that links both. Mornings. That’s when the home bod turns into the work machine…or vice-versa.

To you, my subscribers, I owe a big apology. My feelings have been quite hurt by the assumptions I received, and though the first thing should have been to let you know it will still be the same fruit, but with a different peel, I completely zoned out. Forgive the momentary madness!

To one of my readers, who lets me know that my words have reached a cord by liking my posts, I wish I could have given you heads up. But as I can’t take back the past, here is my olive branch, bright green and full of blossoms. Hope to see your footsteps in the sand again.

To the one who started this avalanche…thy name is “green”. If you understand, congratulations, if not, it won’t matter anyway.

Happy short week everyone! May your thought be filled with gratitude for those around you who deserve it. Thank you for growing a new branch in my tree! You’ve given me so much more color!

cold turkey

‘Tis the season! You see it everywhere! Thanksgiving didn’t come yet, but Christmas is all around. It;s like everyone wants to be more than they are, faster! I wish I had a big remote to rewind the world to…turkey season.

What nobody tells you is that turkey is really a big chicken! In all that description entails! At best, a combination of chicken with peacock. But there’s nothing wrong with that! There is a little chicken in all of us..and, depending on who you are, a lot of peacock…

First thing I remember from this morning was cozying up in bed, when something wooshed by my door, and the thump-thump-crack followed…I looked at the clock and it was a ridiculous 6:30. Oh, c’mon, it’s Saturday! “Little feet”, I yelled, or thought I did anyway, “go back to bed!” No noise occurred…oh, well… I’ll just stay a few more minutes. My eyelids fluttered shut and, for a split second there, I drifted back in the cozy spot of my brain that hadn’t fully awoken yet. Then thoughts started skipping from one synapse to the other, tickling my sleep and annoying my relaxation…to do list is huge today..oh, and time…oh, and that birthday party, I didn’t get a gift…of course I didn’t, I only got back home at 7 last night and dinner didn’t cook itself!..and so on.

I slithered out of bed so I don’t wake up the spouse, and dragged myself to the kitchen. Little feet was happily snuggled on the couch with his ipad. “Oh, for the life of technology Tuesdays! It’s only 6:30…ipads should be banned”…smart remark came immediately “so should coffee! it’s not good for your tummy, you know!”. There’s a saying I adopted here in Texas, “bless your heart”, and it fits like a glove on all my sentences…so my barely awake brain gave it a “bless you little heart and your smart mouthing!”..and focused on setting up the percolator.

Soon the smell of fresh coffee traveled through the house, and light started to fill the room. Ahhh! Mornings…My cup was soon steaming fantastic creatures and the aroma embraced my lungs…soon, very soon, I will make the shopping list.

Fast forward past the laundry at 7:00am part, feeding the seemingly awake mouths, and to being in the car, on my way to the shopping center. At a stop light, the scent of turkey fresh out of the oven tickled my nostrils…Oh, turkey! I completely forgot! That’s what we were supposed to do next week! The stores were decently populated with the likes of me, sleeping bodies who were sent out into the cloudy day in search for food…the idea that I am such a pilgrim grew even stronger in my head…I am the one searching the earth for a better place for my family, finding the food, shelter and making friends with the natives… I guess I could celebrate the real thing….me.

But how much of a peacock does that make me? And shame took over my mind and heart. I’ve been a peacock a lot lately. There are many excuses for it, and all so justified, but none completely true. I flashed my feathers, and strutted around for enough time now. Anything I might have had to compensate for, or prove, has been long accomplished. I thought about yesterday…about hurting my spouse without even knowing…coming, in my mind, from a completely innocent perspective. But after hearing the other side I felt humbled and ashamed. It was not how I saw things, but isn’t that what peacocks say? Me, myself and I…we’re always right…and while I was truthful in my heart, I was in the wrong as far as the world could figure. People don’t read minds, so how could anyone understand the truth? One can see what’s right in front, but not see the whole picture, just that part that happens then and there….and isn’t that the truth as well? And is hurting my loved ones so that I can shine a thing I can accept? Not likely!

I’m going back to being chicken. Cold turkey. No excuses! No personal points of view on the topic. The peacock is too much drama for my taste. And since I didn’t find the balance yet, I might as well just drop the act and go back to being me. Although, the new me was fun and has given me the most intense, pure, unrestricted, secure way to be creative.

We are bound by the rules we chain ourselves with, and though chains mean slavery to most, no chains makes us too unattached, too light, and every gust of wind can blow us further an further away from home….and home is where the heart is…and the heart is never wrong!

I found myself in front of the turkeys – the frozen ones. To complete the irony, a sale was on; they were so cheap that I just had to have three…even if only to remind myself of the kind of bird I am. But turkey is great! Tasty, lending itself to many types of dishes, gregarious…with enough chicken in it to know its place, and with a little peacock to stand out only as much as needed. Hey! I could be a turkey! I really could! And that would solve the problem…and restore the balance.

My facial expressions must have shown all this conversation, because I looked up, and across the turkeys was an old man looking at me very puzzled…”need some help there?” he said shyly. “Thank you! I’ve got it! It was not an easy choice, but I’ve got it!” and I me and my turkeys turned around and headed to the cashier….