Have A Little Faith There is Magic In The Night

My commutes to work have been very quiet. I don't like the gaping maw in my dashboard, waving wires at me impudently. Fuck it. Today was so stressful that I felt like sticking forks in my own eyeballs, but I'm trying to put compassion at the forefront, right? Compassion. Om, shanti shanti shanti.

In the town where I grew up someone spray-painted on a train bridge,"Have a little faith, there is magic in the night..." It wasn't until much later that I realized that those were Springsteen lyrics, but still, it is a great comfort of an expression.

Om, shanti shanti shanti...have a little faith, there is magic in the night.

I was so generally disgruntled today that I had no interest in dinner (!) and when I called my mommy to whine about my problems, she was in an airport in minneapolis and it was awkward to have her shout into her cellphone. With nothing else to do, I let the kids take me on a walk and we wandered by a friend's house.

"Mountain! You are good at fixing things!"
"I am?"
"Yes! Do you know anything about trampolines?"
"You got a trampoline!?"
"Yeah. I've been working for the past six hours in the ninety degree heat trying to put it together!"

Thus, I spent my evening on my hands and knees underneath a trampoline threading a cord through the protective netting and tying it to the lattice underneath. It was perfectly absorbing and just what I needed. I felt useful. My friends have two little girls also, and the four waited so patiently for hours just for a lovely bounce. My husband and his best friend stopped by for a cigarette, and still I was under the trampoline, tying away, happy as a clam. I am really weird, I know.

The girls and I didn't get home until 10:30. We stumbled on the uneven sidewalk pavement because we were so tired. Ivan the 17 year old dog went home today. Alive. I still need a goat and a car stereo.

This is what I had to say on June 28th, 2007-

"I am astounded by B. I have never been loved so unconditionally. I hope he doesn't change his mind about me. I would understand if he does. Perhaps, on some level, I push him away to test him. He passes every test. He is a miracle.


I am a turd."

B. is my husband now. I'm still a turd.

But a handy turd!

Love and Light,
Your Friend,
Mountain

P.S.-Leave me a comment. I get them at work and they keep me from sticking forks in my eyeballs. Usually.