Sometimes I run away to escape my family and write, write, write. Tonight is one of those nights, so here I sit at one of my favorite local spots — reopened after a fire — drinking an IPA, which I’ve recently come to enjoy because, I assume, 2016-Present has numbed me to bitterness and I can swallow more than I did before.
The folks next to me at the bar are talking about the Sicilian mafia, how many bottles of wine fit in the sink of an RV (consensus = five), and their abiding desire for more bread, and I’m trying to decide what point is appropriate to introduce myself as their new best friend. Meanwhile, the bartender is alternating between describing ube, a purple yam from Southeast Asia, and decrying the state of the beer taps which are too full of air and dispensing too much foam this evening. I want to be all, “THE BEER IS DOING THE BEST IT CAN, MAN. LET’S GIVE IT SOME CREDIT FOR TRYING IN THE MIDST OF CHALLENGING TIMES,” but I might be projecting the tiniest bit, so I decided to leave the bartender alone.
It’s commuter hour here in our little berg, and I’m watching the parade of cars through the rain-decorated windows as they wend their way down the main drag from the city to towns beyond ours. The streetlights are on, the sky is dark, and I wonder about the lives of the masses behind their steering wheels; how many will be relieved to be home, how many are dreading it, and how many are too weary to know.
I’m attempting to remember there are very few problems I must solve this exact moment. Not because I’m saturated with problems any more than usual but because I’m working hard to learn the art of living in Now, and Now is too limited in scope to spend it focused only on the “to do” list. I’m trying to breathe deep breaths — one at a time, on purpose, expanding my lungs’ til they encroach on my belly, and holding it just until the tips of my ribs ache.
My problem tends not to be resting too frequently, but, rather, taking on too much. ALL THE THINGS ALL THE TIME is my mantra. It’s why I talk so frequently about learning compassion — even for me — taking time to rest, and remembering “doingness” is not tied to “enoughness” I succeed fairly often these days, but I do it defensively, all, “I AM RESTING, GDAMN IT, BECAUSE IT’S HEALTHY.” A paragon of self-care, I am — A SHINING EXAMPLE.
None of which has to do with anything I intended to write, but you know; this is sometimes the way it goes.
With Love,
P.S. Unrelated: I surprised myself with my own ass the other day.
I delivered my kid back to college, given her inability to travel alone after losing all her blood.
Walked in her front door to this poster on the wall.
I forgot I made them a poster of our butts last summer when they weren’t home as a surprise so they could come home to all this beauty and make sure their friends could enjoy it, too.
Sweet Baby Jesus on a graham cracker, there’s nothing quite like walking in a door to this in your face.
Nothing. Quite. Like it.
In conclusion, friends, pranks may turn around and bite you on the ass. Plan accordingly.
And P.P.S. We’ve released our 2019 retreat dates! If you’re looking to get away and rest with a group of like-minded folks, consider joining us, please! I’d love to hang out with you. It’s one of my favorite things.
P.P.P.S. Now the ladies next to me are arguing over whether “it’s 8 inches or 10 inches.” I don’t know what It is, but I’m still convinced our friendship is destined.
8 responses to “Sometimes My Naked Butt Surprises Even Me… Isn’t Really What This Post Is About”
Sometimes our nakedness surprises us, sometimes it surprises others. That said, I really want to someday join you on a retreat!
I would love to visit a retreat with you girls too! Looks like sooo much fun!
I second Janelle’s idea! That would be brilliant.
Also, I missed the story about how and when the butt pic was taken?! Will you tell us more? Or can I please have the link?
waving – from my bed – no potential friends in the vicinity, just kids – only two – with all their blood still in their bodies, but I’m tired none the less
I was being so proud of myself, doing all the “self care and rest and don’t do all the things (way too lazy for that anyway)”, but the mud is dragging my feet down again. Or is it the cold and the dark and the snow (aaaah)? I’m still waiting for your calendar with your butt for January, your burito belly for February and March (they are just so beautiful, one month is not enough to show it all off) and your cats and dogs and fairy house and underneath the couch and in the room and the bed outside and the trophies can fill up the rest I think… If not, you will have to buy another poney.
Big hug too please – I think I need one badly
I SO look forward to your writing. Super glad college kid is ok. You are by far the funniest and most relatable person i think ever.
Can we start a blog where you just sit in random joints around town and relay the conversations you overhear? I love sitting in on other people’s lives. Must be why I read so much. Hollywood just doesn’t cut it. Thanks for lifting my day. Your butt looks great!
Beth, thank you for the burst-out-loud-laughing moment. I too am trying to do ALL. THE. THINGS. right now and am feeling a bit (no, more than a bit) overwhelmed, and an early morning spontaneous hearty laugh felt so good! Knowing you made the poster is great; knowing she has it up in her room is fantastic.
Simply. Thank you. I love you!