This is a letter to martinis, chicken liver pate and Girl Scout cookies. To late night games of Blitz and Hangman on my Iphone. This is a letter to the small corner of the bed that I unfold each night, a cotton envelope that I slip myself into. This is a letter to the ritual of two blue tablets of Sleep Eaze from Walgreens. To the bottle of Prosecco in my refrigerator just in case. To the bulging clothes drawers – bathing suits and sexy lingerie – woolen mittens – clothes bought in haste – an attempt to change my life. To the old cashmere castaways from my glamorous aunt– clothes she’s worn forever – 30 years- still in perfect condition – perfumed and luxurious – her walk in closet in L.A. soft paint chips arranged by color.
Here’s to the must-dos, the will-dos, the should-haves and the when-I-have-time fors: cleaning out my closets, paying bills, get the tires checked. And here’s to that bathtub and its siren song of love. One summer, the worst summer, I got in nearly every day – it was the only safe place; contained and warm and wet. And here’s to the letter my then 10-year-old daughter taped to the bathroom wall directly across from where I lay. “Mommy” she wrote, “we love you, who wouldn’t?” And to the cigarette I smoked after that bath, out on the porch in my summer skirt, relieved that my husband had taken the girls for a ride and that I could be alone again. I could hardly tolerate myself. It was even harder to be with them.
And so this is a letter to forgiveness, to the pate and the martinis, the Girl Scout cookies and to the late night Iphone games which surprised my Mother last week in L.A. when we shared a bed. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a gamer,” she told me as we lay there in the dark. “Oh, but I am,” I said, eyes never lifting from the screen, thumbs hitting bright blue jewels that popped and exploded in the dark.
A letter to forgiveness for all the ways I have tried to calm down and come back. And to my tin heart that actually beats, to my stiff legs in the morning from so many walks and where I’m going I don’t know, and compassion for that too – and for the love – can we call it love? Let’s call it love. There was always love
Love it.
This is beautiful, sharp, uncomfortable and soothing.
yep! xxxx
Here’s to you my friend, to cracking it open, creating the space, always. I’m always amazed at how you transform your vunerability into your power. Here’s to the strength you never horde but always share. Particles of your light are bouncing all the way here.
Big love!
Kb
Love!
kisses!
Me too…! You nailed it… especially the “I could hardly tolerate myself.” Thanks for sharing how you got back to your beautiful self. It helps those of us who need to get there…. well, me, anyway. May you continue to find solace & beauty in the journey. Blessings…
thank you! Good to share this work-path-life with friends!
Julie, thank you!
Good God, I love this. And beyond that, deeper than I know how to say, I love you. You make writing that brings us into focus, that clears our sinuses, that cleanses, that hopes, that heals.
reaching across the country to kiss you baby!
love it.
xxxooo
Laurie,
“We love you, who wouldn’t” Indeed.
beautiful, beautiful, beautiful you.
Thank you…the self forgiveness is breathtaking…love it!
mmmm….such a practice! xxxx
Beautiful, stirring, evokes my compassion for you and for myself. I feel a kindred connection to you ~ just wished I lived closer and could attend more classes. In due course it will happen. Love to you ~ ~ ~
love you too sweetie – we are connected even when we’re not connected! xx
“Write a letter to…” I’m adding this to the bulging treasure I left with from your recent Telling True Stories class. Your words are like a get-out-of-jail-free card, a permission slip from the Universe. I’m heartened and comforted by them. Inspired and emboldened.
Andrea – thank you – my goodness – thank you. I loved having you in class – join me for something else sometime! So great to hear your stories xxxx
My sweet friend Jill shared about her experience with your classes, and I am so glad she did!
reading this post I felt relieved and I softened around some of those things I’ve done (and do!) to get through a day, a night, a year …… things I’ve labeled as bad and wrong. There are times when Angry Birds and Scrabble (and any word game!) become my best friends. And along with meditation and yoga and all the “good” stuff, I need friends like that!
kimberly – thank you for this note – total love – I’m with you – we’re all in the same boat! xxx
Oooooooooooh. Darn you Laurie. Now I have to go write something. Why do you have to inspire me? Oh, but you do. You alone can pull it out from behind the rock. Love it. Goltta write for the cowboy by day saloon girl by night person…..I promised.
hello sweet pea – I miss you! LOVE!