I’m back to blogging. A space for me to exercise my inner thoughts, share unfiltered observations, and resist pleasing anyone.  The authentic self?  I will strive with my limited resolve, but alas protecting my truth means expressing my truth.

Mental flickerings at this moment:

  • Mom’s turkey was succulent and the best-tasting Christmas bird I can remember.  She was humble, as usual, stating it all depends on the turkey purchased.  She cooks it the same way each time, and some turn out juicer and tastier than others.  And no, it was not a Butterball.
  • Over dinner, Mom described her childhood Christmas stocking:  a shoebox with oranges, apples, nuts, and chocolate covered creme drops.  Dad added he had fond memories of creamed onions and his dad’s love for mincemeat pie.
  • I received exactly what I requested for Christmas, a simple comforter for the guest bedroom.  I much prefer giving gifts than giving them.  It is a selfish enjoyment, so please don’t think it’s altruism exemplified.
  • I am becoming moody as I await New Year’s resolve to turn the tide on this weight gain and general gluttony.  Paul Cadmus’ Seven Deadly Sins exhibit in Manhattan haunts yet fascinates me.  I saw it a few years ago, and the emotion it stirs in my belly (which MUST be the seat of my soul by the way it dominates my behavior) is a subtle constant force.
  • To lay bare to all my complete truth is what I long.  Loved one does not exist in family gatherings with dad, per request from the other family members.  He would not understand, I would be assured of disownment and general dissolution of the family connections.  By not telling all, I have created a perception limbo, where I cannot make the great leap to wholeness.  Not all of us can follow Milk’s request to come clean to all (including our intolerant fathers) to aid the lives of future brethern.  Is it cowardness or lack of character that keeps me from living my life to my fullest?  Or could it possibly be viewed as my sacrifice to protect my mom from definite pain and agony?  The whole issue attracts far more attention than it deserves because I shelter this protected truth from the full light.
  • Once you trim nose hairs, they grow twice as fast and must be watched closely for overgrowth.  Me of hairless forearms and lightly hairy legs wonders how this can be.  My chest hair continues to fill in, as if my physical maturation coincides with my psychological evolution.
  • Mom did not renew my Runner’s World subscription this Christmas.  When asked why, she pointedly said “Because you don’t run anymore”.  Bravo, well said mom, well said.  Still, I desire to run.  But I agree, it is like buying cookbooks and not cooking (which I also am guilty of).  I think my peceived self needs to hash it out with my actual self.  There must be quite a disconnect. :-)