Midlife Natalie

Ms. Johnson says everybody has a story. She said some of us are afraid to tell ours and that’s why when it comes time to write something, we say we have writer’s block. Ms. Johnson says there’s no such thing as writer’s block. She said it’s just your mind saying to your body, I ain’t trying to write that jive. Everybody laughed when she said it like that because, mostly, Ms. Johnson speaks proper.

“Then what does your mind want your hand to write?” Ms. Johnson asked the class.

Trevor was tracing the letters on his desk. Rayray was staring out the window. I looked down at my blank paper, my pencil in my hand and my hand and mind real still and quiet.

“Frannie?” Ms. Johnson looked at me.

I shrugged, “A story?”

“Maybe,” Ms. Johnson said. She walked slowly over to Rayray and turned his head gently toward the front of the room. She walked over to Trevor, lifted his pencil out of his hand.

“If the story is the truth,” Ms. Johnson said.

“But that’s nonfiction then, ” somebody said.

“The truth is in your heart. My daddy says we all have a truth in our hearts.”

It was the Jesus Boy speaking. He even surprised Ms. Johnson. But she tried to hide it by smiling.

“Exactly,” Ms. Johnson said. “Write what your heart tells you to write.”

We all looked around the room at each other. Nobody said anything.

“My heart’s not saying anything,” Rayray said. He slumped down in his chair. “I hate this.”

Ms. Johnson walked back to the front of the room. “Think of a day in your life,” she said. “Any kind of day–where something big happened or nothing at all happened. Something important or something just regular, like you ate a sandwich while watching cartoons. Anything. Just try to write down every single detail you can remember about it.”

—————————————————————————————-

I looked down at my paper. There were a million days in my head, all of them marching all over each other. All of them coming from my heart and feeling like my heart-truth. I didn’t have the slightest idea where to begin. There were all kinds of thoughts swirling around in my head and it felt like the whole class dropped away and disappeared and all that was left was me and my pen and my paper and the whole wide world spinning around me. I felt dizzy with all those thoughts, had to put my head down on the desk.

“Frannie, are you okay?” I heard Ms. Johnson asking. Her voice sounded like it was coming from real far away.

I nodded into my arm but didn’t lift my head. “I don’t even know what the first line to write would be,” I said.

“Begin at Frannie’s beginning,” Ms. Johnson said.

—————————————————————————————————-

From the book Feathers by Jacqueline Woodson

I love children’s literature.

Many moons ago I owned a little silver point and shoot camera.  I LOVED that camera.  It took such amazing pictures.  Here are a few plant shots that I took back in the day.   It also took some amazing pictures of the kids playing in the pool.  The water came out crisp, the splashes were defined, and the colors were amazing.  Basically, very few pictures turned out bad.  I was constantly asked what kind of camera I used, and people were always surprised when I said it was just a point and shoot on the automatic setting.

I used that camera so much that the battery door started popping open and had to be taped shut.  I decided to get another camera, and before I could get a chance to do some research and buy one, I was given a camera by a church group.  It was still a point and shoot and was even the same brand, but it was much fancier than mine.  I have tried to love that camera, but I have never been able to.  From the first use, the pictures weren’t nearly as good.  I kept thinking that I just didn’t know what I was doing so I messed with all the settings and tried to make it work better.   Nothing I did improved the picture quality.  Others, who were much more camera smart, messed around with it, and still nothing improved much.  I was somewhat sad about it all.

And then life happened, and I wasn’t interested in taking pictures of it.  I look back and wonder if I had been using a camera I loved, would I have documented more of my journey?  I don’t know for sure.

I’ve been in the mood to take pictures again lately so I thought I would look up some info about that camera just to try again.  It turns out that a lot of people aren’t impressed with its performance.  There were all kinds of bad reviews which made me feel better about my lack of ability!

And now for the good news.  I just purchased a new camera.  I don’t have it yet, and I hope to love it.  It isn’t a point and shoot so there will be a learning curve, but there is an automatic setting which will come in handy at first.  The reviews are overall great with a score of 4 1/2 out of 5 stars.  I can’t wait to get my hands on it!  I look forward to telling stories in pictures again.

One of my favorite movies is the Truman Show.  It didn’t get my attention at the time it came out, and I’m pretty sure it was considered a flop at the box office.  I don’t remember when I saw it for the first time, but I know it was when I was living in Turkey.

What I do remember is how it made me feel.

It reminded me so much of my reality at the time.  All of these people watching and waiting to see what Truman would do next.  Then there were those people who manipulated his reality to cause him to make certain decisions.  He married Meryl even though he was attracted to Lauren, because the producers wanted that to be how the story went.  Even his best friend, Marlon, was not who Truman thought he was.

Somedays I felt like Truman…wanting to escape my reality and do something crazy…see something new. Somedays I felt like Marlon…pretending to be someone I wasn’t for the sake of the show.  And somedays I felt like the producers of The Truman Show…manipulating events to make sure things happened like I wanted them to happen.

One of the most interesting characters to me was Christof.  He was the creator of the show and some of his lines were genius.  For example…

• We accept the reality of the world with which we are presented, it’s as simple as that.
• If his was more than just a vague ambition, if he [Truman] was absolutely determined to discover the truth, there’s no way we could prevent him.
• “I’ve given Truman the chance to lead a normal life. The world, the place you live in is the sick place. Seahaven is the way the world should be.”

I felt as though he was both describing me and challenging me to do something about it.  I loved how, at the end of the movie, Truman spoke into the open air to Christof and said, “You never had a camera in my head.”  That was so powerful to me.  My thoughts were my own to sort out.  

And then I would think about that button that Lauren was wearing when Truman talked to her for the first time in the library.  How will it end?  That was a good question and one I couldn’t begin to wrap my mind around at the time.

Like Truman, I chose to walk away from the only world I knew.  And then after some time, I found my way back to the parts of it I couldn’t live without.  The parts that felt like home to me.  And I merged that old life with this new one in a way that is a more authentic reality.  Yes, I’ve come a long way!

So I was talking to Chicory Root this morning.  And by the way, she hates that name, but I don’t like to use real names on my blog so she gets to deal with it.  Our conversation was all over the place.  I walked away from it thinking about how many blog posts I could write concerning all that we talked about, but I decided I’d start with this.

Back in September, Chicory Root emailed me.  It was the first time I had heard from her in over a year and a half.  She felt like God was telling her to email me, and the message He wanted her to share was this…

In this past year and a half,  I experienced the darkest time of my life.  It was meant to have me finally fall hard enough to, as Wayne Dyer would characterize it, “crack open”, to rise above ego and release my Spirit.  Since then, I have experienced joy, and satisfaction, and blessings beyond anything I could have ever  imagined.  But the message in meditation this morning was simple and singular; there’s something you always said, I believe it was actually a Scripture, to the effect that, people should feel better or enriched for having met you.  Tears welled up as I heard that in my heart, and I acknowledged that, in fact, I am a much richer person for having known you and I needed to to tell you.  You saw past the negativity of ego and connected with me on a soul plane and despite it all, you always smiled.  How could that not have been anything but a shining example of Spiritual good, and a tremendous blessing for me! 

Now I’m not putting any of that here to boost my own ego.  It is meant only as an explanation of what spurred the reconciliation.  I responded with my own apologies for abandoning the relationship/friendship when I did, and after many talks about our past relationship, we determined that we were much better friends than anything else.  And so today, we continue to be friends…family even.  The connection isn’t romantic nor has there even been the notion of that since we reconnected.  I am glad we were able to move from that place to this one.  I know that Chicory Root wants only the best for me, and I have no doubts about her trustworthiness and faithfulness to me as a friend.  In turn, she knows she can trust me for support and love as well.  We learned a lot about ourselves during the time we were estranged.  Lessons that were best learned apart from each other.  For that I am extremely grateful.  I am also very happy to have her in my life again.  God knows what he is doing, and His plans are always much greater than mine!

During one of our recent talks, Chicory Root and I talked about how our friendship would look when one or both of us started dating.  She dubbed herself the Friend-in-law and put in an order for my significant other to like motorcycles and Danica Patrick.  I told her I’d see what I could do.  😉

I have so many blog posts running through my head and none of them are finished.  It’s like I can’t wrap them up somehow.  Here’s what I’ve saved in drafts over the past few weeks.

1.  This quote.  I loved what it said and planned to get back to it at some point to explain why.  

2.  These lines from the movie That Thing You Do.  I’ve always loved them.

Guy Patterson: [to Faye] Before you go, let me ask you one question.

Faye Dolan: Shoot.

Guy: When was the last time you were decently kissed? I mean, truly, truly, good and kissed?

Faye: Dave Gammelgard, New Year’s Eve, ’61.

Guy: [pause] Okay. [kisses Faye, backs off and they kiss longer as Lamarr smiles]

Faye: [having kissed] We should have done that a long time ago.

And here is a clip for those of you who haven’t seen it.  (Not the best quality, but it was all I could find.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FxovZ5ATKAA

3.  This quote…

There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.

Maya Angelou

4. And this one…

 Being with you is like walking on a very clear morning – definitely the sensation of belonging there.  E. B. White 

5.  And the beginning and middle part of a blog post.  I read it and have no idea where I was going with this.  I’m sure I thought it was important at the time, but now…I don’t know.  I hate to delete it so I’m adding it here.  

I moved around a lot as a kid so I was constantly making new friends.  I went to two elementary schools, one junior high, and two high schools, and never lived any place longer than 3 years.  The summer before my junior year of high school I moved from a suburb of Houston to the panhandle of Texas.  It was a pretty drastic change for me.  I was angry about the move, because I loved my church and my friends.  I had been in the same school for two whole years, and I felt like I was hitting my stride.  I loved my school, and had finally made the drill team and was working hard to prove myself.  The drill team instructor knew that I should have made the team the year before, and encouraged me to try out again.  I went to dance camp that summer and learned some of the new dances for the upcoming school year.  I was so ready.  And then my parents called a family meeting.  I hated when that happened, because it always meant that we were moving again.  The new school had abolished their drill team after it became known as the Whore Corp. around town, so there was no transferring to another dance troop.  After the move, I rebelled a little by going and getting a job.  I know…I was hardcore!  I wouldn’t participate in any of the church youth group activities because I was convinced that all those kids thought they were better than me!   I became best friends with another newbie at the school and spent all my free time with her and the boyfriend I happened to have.  We had open campus lunch and despite my mom fixing me a lunch, I would go out anyway.  Did I mention how rebellious I was??

The summer after my junior year my parents had a family trip planned.  They were going on a vacation, and I couldn’t go because I was working.  The truth was I could have asked off or quit my job, but I didn’t want to go.  My mom arranged for a college student at the church to come and stay with me while they were gone.  I was mortified!  I didn’t want some self-righteous stranger staying with me!  The girl showed up and I liked her.  She wasn’t weird or crazy or self-righteous.  And she introduced me to a couple other girls who were a grade younger than me from the church.  When I saw them, I knew exactly who they were.  I had seen them at church and school, and they always looked like they were having a blast.  I spent the two weeks my family was gone getting to know these girls and many of their friends.  I dove into everything youth group related and was a completely different person when my parents came home.  My mom couldn’t believe the difference!  I couldn’t believe that I missed out on a year of amazing relationships, because I wanted to pout about moving!

The summer after I graduated from high school my family moved again.  I was going away to college, but I was still sad.  There would be no trips home to visit my friends because when I went home to visit my family it would be to their new house.  Their new house in the same suburb of Houston we had lived in two years before.  And even though I was moving back to a place I had known and back to a church I had once loved, it wasn’t the same.

So there you have it.  A random assortment of stuff.  Nothing finished, but now I can move on to fresh, new ideas and quit looking back at these things with frustration.

Long distance relationships.  They’ve been on my mind lately.  And I’m talking about mine…not anyone else’s.  Since I was married for 19 years, I don’t have a lot of experience with relationships, but I have had a few as an adult.  One of those was a long distance one.  We lived so far away from each other that we started the relationship when we were together the first time and ended it right after we were together the second time, a year later.  Other than the beginning stirrings and the grand finale, the entire relationship was online through emails, instant messenger, and Skype as well as many phone calls.  It was amazing.  I didn’t realize how much I could feel for someone I couldn’t physically touch, hold, and kiss.  Because we didn’t have that luxury, we spent a lot of time really getting to know each other.  We talked endlessly about every subject imaginable.  I knew her heart.  The connection we had was incredible.  We were both so honest about where we were and how we felt.  Declarations of love and whispers of sweet nothings were shared and we built this sort of way to exist even though we couldn’t be together.  When we finally did see each other, we were done talking.  We couldn’t keep our hands off of each other and spent the next week taking every opportunity to be together physically.  Yes, there were hiccups, but it had nothing to do with how we felt about each other.  That was perfectly clear, and in a perfect world we wouldn’t have ever had to part ways.  But it was a necessary thing.  And it almost killed both of us.

Recently I’ve been talking to someone online.  Someone who lives halfway across the country from me.  She is someone of amazing character and strength.  The way we connected was a little scary for both of us I think.  We sent emails and texts and had endless phone conversations.  The friendship we were building had undertones of a deeper relationship.  We both felt it, but we made light of it anytime it was mentioned.  I was terrified to say anything about how I was feeling, because she said that she wasn’t interested in a long distance relationship.  That they were too hard and frustrating.  I agreed with that and figured being her friend was a pretty good consolation prize.  I could do that.  And it was so easy to be her friend.  I had hoped to visit my friend for spring break or at the beginning of summer.  We talked about it and she said she couldn’t wait.  We were both so excited to be able to meet each other in person.

The other day we were being silly.  Flirting.  And we joked about me writing a post about her being my girlfriend.  I thought it would be funny so I did it.  Some of you may have seen that post while it was up for the whole 10 minutes I kept it visible.  Some got it in their readers or e-mailed to them.  I ended up taking it down for two reasons.  One of those reasons was because my online friend was confused by it.  I told her I was begin silly, and I was, but there were serious undertones about how I was feeling in it.  She could see that and asked about it.  I confused her asking for accusing.  I tried hard to back peddle because I didn’t want my friend to think I was really smitten when she had so clearly expressed her lack of interest in a long distance relationship.  But the truth is…I am smitten. And my back peddling resulted in my friend needing to back off of communication with me because of how she feels.  She never confirmed how she feels exactly, but if I were to make an assumption, she’s smitten, too.  And I hurt her by pretending not to be.  And so now we’re here.  Not talking.  And my heart is aching.    

The friendship/relationship we were building was akin to my first long distance relationship.  I know it would have come with all the frustrations as well.  The wanting to hold each other and kiss each other.  Because that isn’t possible, we would have shared ourselves deeply, and I have no doubt what would have happened the first time we saw each other in person.  We would have holed up someplace and gotten to know each other in the only way that had been denied to us up until that point.  I’m sad that it isn’t progressing like that now.  My trip to visit her could’ve been a beautiful thing.

Even admitting this here scares me.  I just have to put these feelings somewhere.  And I know that God will work things out for both of us…together or separately.  We both have a strong faith in Him.  That was one of the things that was so attractive about my friend in the first place.  I pray that we can get past this and move on.  I would prefer moving on together, even only as friends, but I’m leaving that in God’s hands.  He knows.

On Friday, I attended a Wynonna Judd concert with some friends.  It was the first time I’d seen her in concert despite loving her for years, and as she so eloquently put it to those of us who were newbies, “it’s about time!”  The venue was fairly small so there truly wasn’t a bad seat in the house.  I was fortunate enough to be seated on the 5th row which was close enough to see Wynonna’s facial expressions and watch her husband, Cactus, express himself on the drums.  I am a sucker for a good drum solo and Cactus didn’t disappoint.

I attended this concert with a lesbian couple and a single lesbian friend of mine.  I knew my friends enjoyed Wynonna, but I didn’t realize that all gay people love her.  This concert was like Mecca for the gays.  There were a few straight people there, but I’m pretty sure they were outnumbered by us same-sex loving folks.  I saw so many plaid shirts that I thought I was having a vertigo attack at one point.    Once Wynonna came out on stage though, I completely forgot my lesbian friends.  I was totally mesmerized.  Her lips were lined perfectly.  Her hair was flaming red and sparkled when she moved.  And that voice.  Well, I can’t even begin to describe the sultry, soulful feel of it.  I was blown away.  The concert was amazing and wonderful.  Wynonna certainly did her thing and everyone, gays and straights alike, loved it.

Later, I was telling another lesbian friend about the concert and she said that Wynonna was gay and everyone knew it.  I told her about Cactus and how Wynonna shared a story about their love and devotion to each other after Cactus tragically lost his leg in a motorcycle accident.  My friend said that Cactus was just a beard.  Now let me explain what she meant to those of you who might not understand as I’ve only recently become acquainted with this word myself.  A beard is a distractor.  Someone whose purpose is to distract others from continuing down a line of thought that one might not want them to have.  So according to my friend, Cactus serves as a beard to Wynonna’s being gay.  She obviously can’t be gay because she’s married.  Right?  Apparently not.

And my opinion of this?  I don’t care if Wynonna is gay or straight.  She seems honest and down to earth despite her joking about everything being about her.  She seems like she would give you the shirt off her back if you asked for it.  And most of all, I loved that she shared her faith at the concert.  How God has seen her through some tough times and how faithful He’s always been to her.  She and Cactus have been through a lot in their relatively short time together.  Wynonna, herself, has been through so many ups and downs in her career and personal life and has openly and willingly shared her struggles with her fans.  I love that about her.  And if she is gay and closeted, it really doesn’t matter.  She has shared so many life lessons along the way that I’ll give her a pass on that one.

Updated:  Wynonna, herself, read this post and assures me she isn’t gay.  I, for one, believe her.  She’s been open and honest about so much in her life, I have no idea why she would hide that!  Way to be you, Wy!

Recently, I was asked what type of person I could see myself with in 10 years.  I hadn’t really thought much about specifications up to that point, I just had a standard.  My standard has evolved over the last 5 years as my marriage ended and I started dating.  I’ve only dated two women, but there are three in my past.  I look at each of them and see what worked and what didn’t.  How we complimented each other and how we drove each other crazy.  I also use my ex-husband as a standard.  I don’t expect anyone to be like him, but there are qualities he had that were really attractive.  Things that I want in a future mate.  And there are things that I haven’t experienced with anyone I’ve been with that sound like something I would enjoy.  As I’ve contemplated all of this, and believe me I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time on this subject lately, there is only one thing I can say with certainty.  I will not be dating around.  I have no desire to go looking for this person.  I have no problem sitting back and waiting until God brings her into my life.  He knows the desires of my heart and will do a much better job than I could choosing the right person for me.  Will it be my first love or someone else entirely?  I have no idea.  All I know is that I’ve spent the last two relationships trying to make them something they weren’t.  I think both of those women would agree with me.  Years ago when I was contemplating coming out, I was asked to imagine a front porch with two rocking chairs on it.  One of those chairs was mine and the other belonged to the one I wanted to grow old with.  I’ve tried to imagine certain people in that rocking chair, but those images were fleeting.  And while I can’t see the face of the one I’ll call mine, my heart knows what she looks like.  And for today, that is enough.

I was reminded of my grandparents’ farm this morning, and I’ve been feeling quite nostalgic.  So much so that I started to write a post about it.  And for some reason the only words I could think of were words I’d already written many years ago.  I figured I would just put them here and let that be it.

I remember every summer
down on my grandpa’s farm.
Finding fun to fill our days
wasn’t very hard.
Learning to drive that old red truck
when we were just kids
Filling jars with lightning bugs
and poking holes in the lids
Walking on the rocks ’round that big oak tree
Going to town to buy ice cream
Cutting pictures out of magazines
Remember

I remember every morning
eating biscuits, bacon and eggs.
Grandma would sneak back to our rooms
and make up all the beds.
We’d take a walk across the fields
and drink from the natural spring.
On the way back we’d stop for awhile
to play on the tire swing.
Sliding down the hay bales in the barn
Playing in the dirt with matchbox cars
Watermelon feasts out in the yard
Remember

I remember eating cornbread
and shelling purple hull peas.
We’d shuck corn and we’d snap beans
and put them in the big deep freeze.
Going with grandpa to see the pigs
and give them something to eat.
We rode on the tailgate of the truck
and let the grass tickle our feet.
Drawing pictures on butcher paper
Then hanging them on the refrigerator
Oh the games that we would play there
Remember

We would make pea-shooters out of sticks and rubber bands
Drive the tractor in the fields to give grandpa a hand
Going to pick blackberries
and ending up with poison ivy
Watching Andy Griffith on tv
Remember

Playing Dukes of Hazzard in the truck
Roscoe was always out of luck
’cause we were never giving up
Remember

Eating lots of chocolate pie
Papa played his fiddle most every night
We were tired and we’d sleep tight
Remember