Words run around in my head. Real words, nonsense words, word-associations, meanings, unbidden, thoughtful, random strings of letters. I think of this as my Imaginary Dictionary.
Life (n):
Fragile, resilient, changing, constant,
painful, joyful, unexpected, devastating,
hopeful, surprising, lonely, friendful,
agonizing, wonderful, improbable life.
Everything can change in a moment, in a lifetime,
with the wind, by a phone call, from a smile.
Life is constant,ever-changing,
adapting, evolving, surviving.
Life is a person, a bug, a plant, a doe, a bird,
the lizard who lives in the garage, a child,
(But not a mosquito. I refuse to include mosquitos
in the dictionary in my head.)
Lifetime is measured in decades, minutes,
centuries, years, seconds, millennia:
A bad day, a perfect moment, a magical year,
a crappy week.
Life goes on. Life goes on.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
The Most Beautiful Place is Burning
I had meant to post earlier this week, but my soul is not yet recovered from the news that the most beautiful place in my world is on fire. Yes, I know that sounds like lame after-the-fact adulation... Here's my case for it's truth.
I first laid eyes on Colorado Springs as an 18-year-old kid, doing the stereotypical "see the West!" family road trip... Maybe less stereotypical in that the "kids", at ages 18 and 20, were doing most of the driving, while Mom and Dad whined "are we there yet?" and threw fries at each other from the twin captain's chairs in the middle of the Astro minivan. Of all the stops we made that trip, Colorado Springs, and Garden ofthe Gods in particular, captured my imagination - tied only by the magical formations of Arches National Park.
Fast Forward about 8 years. Career found? Check. Man of my dreams? Check. wedding? Check. Honeymoon.... Where to go? There was some discussion of Disney, but money was an issue, and we decided that after all the stress we'd been under, between wedding planning, a death in the family, and overly long hoours at wor, we'd frankly rather go somewhere we could just relax. B.H.E. (though I suppose he was still. B.F.E. at that point) told me to leave it to him. And let it be a surprise.
So, "just married" sign still painted in lipstick on te back window, our hand-me-down Crown Victoria finally limped into beautiful Manitou Springs, where we spent a magical week alternating adventures, food, and lots of sleep. We said as we left that Colorado Springs was a great choice, and wouldn't it be magical if we could live there?
Wavy transition, 5.5 years go by. Work is still insane (love what I do, but 70+hour, 7 day weeks start getting to a person), and B.H.E., tired of my grumpiness, tired of Kansas, and knowing it would take some serious incentive to convince me to move from our 3-year-old dream house, polishes my resume and sends it across the country to likely cities, Colorado Springs chief among them. lo and behold, a call, an interview, and an offer materialized before I even had time to think... So off we went.
For 6 magical years we spent weekends hiking, photographing, and just soaking in the beauty of the red sandstones, the pink Pikes Peak granite, the tall mountain pines, and glittering gold of Aspens in the fall, the same vistas of purple mountains majesty Stowe was staring at from the apex of Pikes Peak as she wrote those famous words.
Though I was farther than I've ever been from family, we managed to create a new family of sorts with some locals, and countless transplants from other places, like us pulled by the beauty, the mild sunny climate, and the delightful reasonableness of living in Colorado Springs.
Alas, in the end, even the gravitational pull of that huge mass of granite looming over the city wasn't enough to hold B.H.E.'s wandering feet in one place. Again he knew it would take significant reason to tear me away from our house, with the final renovation that made it perfect barely a year old. So, he brushed up his own resume, sent it around, and when an offer quickly came, pointed out that Austin is far closer to family than the 1000+ miles we faced in Colorado. And so we packed, said tearful goodbyes, and started our new adventure as Texans a few short months ago. When we tell new friends where we've come from, those in the know always ask why would we ever have left? And every now and then, I'm tempted to agree.
Epilogue, 6 months later. We've already been back to Colorado once, with plans to return again at least once more before the year is out. News of the Waldo Canyon fire has been wrenching our very souls. Our friends there are our family. Our family is hurting. Evacuation has affected several, With early reports that some may have lost homes. (Specifics haven't yet been given out by authorities.) Photos and maps of the fire and damage show that many favorite trails, picnic spots, and quiet book-reading lookouts will be forever changed, never to be seen again as they stand in my memories.
I prefer to write of upbeat and imaginative things, that the sad and gloomy thing might see they are unwelcome in my head, and leave.
Gloom I do not like to spread.
But today, this week, the gravity simply pulls too hard on my brain.
My heart is breaking.
The most beautiful place in my world is on fire.
I first laid eyes on Colorado Springs as an 18-year-old kid, doing the stereotypical "see the West!" family road trip... Maybe less stereotypical in that the "kids", at ages 18 and 20, were doing most of the driving, while Mom and Dad whined "are we there yet?" and threw fries at each other from the twin captain's chairs in the middle of the Astro minivan. Of all the stops we made that trip, Colorado Springs, and Garden ofthe Gods in particular, captured my imagination - tied only by the magical formations of Arches National Park.
Fast Forward about 8 years. Career found? Check. Man of my dreams? Check. wedding? Check. Honeymoon.... Where to go? There was some discussion of Disney, but money was an issue, and we decided that after all the stress we'd been under, between wedding planning, a death in the family, and overly long hoours at wor, we'd frankly rather go somewhere we could just relax. B.H.E. (though I suppose he was still. B.F.E. at that point) told me to leave it to him. And let it be a surprise.
So, "just married" sign still painted in lipstick on te back window, our hand-me-down Crown Victoria finally limped into beautiful Manitou Springs, where we spent a magical week alternating adventures, food, and lots of sleep. We said as we left that Colorado Springs was a great choice, and wouldn't it be magical if we could live there?
Wavy transition, 5.5 years go by. Work is still insane (love what I do, but 70+hour, 7 day weeks start getting to a person), and B.H.E., tired of my grumpiness, tired of Kansas, and knowing it would take some serious incentive to convince me to move from our 3-year-old dream house, polishes my resume and sends it across the country to likely cities, Colorado Springs chief among them. lo and behold, a call, an interview, and an offer materialized before I even had time to think... So off we went.
For 6 magical years we spent weekends hiking, photographing, and just soaking in the beauty of the red sandstones, the pink Pikes Peak granite, the tall mountain pines, and glittering gold of Aspens in the fall, the same vistas of purple mountains majesty Stowe was staring at from the apex of Pikes Peak as she wrote those famous words.
Though I was farther than I've ever been from family, we managed to create a new family of sorts with some locals, and countless transplants from other places, like us pulled by the beauty, the mild sunny climate, and the delightful reasonableness of living in Colorado Springs.
Alas, in the end, even the gravitational pull of that huge mass of granite looming over the city wasn't enough to hold B.H.E.'s wandering feet in one place. Again he knew it would take significant reason to tear me away from our house, with the final renovation that made it perfect barely a year old. So, he brushed up his own resume, sent it around, and when an offer quickly came, pointed out that Austin is far closer to family than the 1000+ miles we faced in Colorado. And so we packed, said tearful goodbyes, and started our new adventure as Texans a few short months ago. When we tell new friends where we've come from, those in the know always ask why would we ever have left? And every now and then, I'm tempted to agree.
Epilogue, 6 months later. We've already been back to Colorado once, with plans to return again at least once more before the year is out. News of the Waldo Canyon fire has been wrenching our very souls. Our friends there are our family. Our family is hurting. Evacuation has affected several, With early reports that some may have lost homes. (Specifics haven't yet been given out by authorities.) Photos and maps of the fire and damage show that many favorite trails, picnic spots, and quiet book-reading lookouts will be forever changed, never to be seen again as they stand in my memories.
I prefer to write of upbeat and imaginative things, that the sad and gloomy thing might see they are unwelcome in my head, and leave.
Gloom I do not like to spread.
But today, this week, the gravity simply pulls too hard on my brain.
My heart is breaking.
The most beautiful place in my world is on fire.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Are We There Yet, Dad?
In many ways I am still that little Tishabug of the past, trying not to cross the imaginary line in the backseat of the faux-wood-panelled station-wagon (so my Dorkfaced brother won't whine that I'm on *his* side of the car), popping her head out from behind a large book to ask "are we there yet?"
I've asked this on hundreds of such trips, by station-wagon, plane, bus, train, bicycle, and boat. (Sometimes staying merely days, others lasting years. I've lived, so far, in 6 US states, and even 1 foreign country.) And still usually from behind the pages of a book (or, more recently, from behind the cover of my trusty nook.) For years I've pushed forwards to the "next" destination: a degree, a promotion, marriage, a better company, a higher title, a larger salary. Then, one day, I found I'd "arrived..." but was too stressed and tired to enjoy the benefits.
It was then that I finally began to understand there is no 'There.' Life is an ongoing road trip. Focusing on the destination misses the point, which can be found only in the journey itself. The happy accidents of the roadside stands, wildflowers, unfortunately worded signs, and delightfully cheesy tourist traps are, perhaps, themselves the point. So I've resolved to slow my speed, take the byways, roll down the windows, put my feet on the dash, stop for funny signs, and enjoy the ride!
Meet Tishabug
So. After years of writing in journals for no one but myself, and posting the occasional short blurb to facebook, I've finally built up some courage to put myself out there a little more, and start a blog.
The name, Flight of the Tishabug, comes from a childhood endearment that my parents dropped long ago, when I probably insisted I was far too old for such a babyish nickname. Yet, in my head, the name has lived on in a parallel world, a world with it's own language, it's own reality. In that world, I still think of myself as the wide-eyed, painfully shy little pig-tailed little wallflower called Tishabug. Tishabug is the fly on the wall: listening, observing, taking it all in. She's the industrious ant of Aesop's fable, planning ahead for the rainy day, yet living with the grasshopper who prefers to put playtime first. But she still tries to find time to fly for the pure joy of flight, to sing loud, off-key joyful noises.
So come on along through the good and bad as she explores the world - the hope, the loneliness, the joys, the fears - share with me as Tishabug forges diligently onwards, with The Nellypup and B.H.E. (Best. Husband. Ever.) at her/my side. I hope to write of the adventures we share, the world I observe, the paths of my ponderings, and the words that describe it all--even when those words exist only in the imaginary dictionary in my brain.
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