Wednesday, November 29, 2017

8 Things 'I Love Dick' Got Right About Non-Monogamy

One weekend I binged-watched a show I wasn't even sure I liked, and had so many thoughts about it they got written down and published on Righteous! 

Tuesday, January 24, 2017


Women in need of friendship can find each other the way swift winds spin into a tornado—it is fast, and it can be final. 

Sometimes there's a reluctance in it, a hesitation. Did I choose this family, or did it choose me? 

Because I see you: I see your failings, I see your specialness. I see your soul—and mine agrees. 

If belonging is a decision as much as an avalanche, then then I will bury us in intention and claim you for my own. 

If it's circumstance—just a strong wind from the north, a snow that will maybe melt and fade—belonging to you, even for now, feels like the most beautiful, sparkling summer: too short, already memorable, and so, so warm.  

Let's always meet here, in this summer garden. 

Monday, January 23, 2017

Nearing midnight

What does it mean, crossing over into a new day? Midnight is such an arbitrary line, a single mile marker on an endless highway. We sure do give it a lot of attention, though. It's by far the most serious of deadlines, the most shameful of snacks. The mere stroke of it is the difference between getting home on time (to turn into the same old you), or letting the night get turnt (to turn into a day-old turnip tomorrow). For most, the only socially acceptable place to be at midnight is at a screening or Christmas mass. Any later in the night and you're up to no good— or the no-good is up hunting you.

Either way, once realized, midnight can be a real Debbie-downer. When sleep's sheep are too far afield, the mere knowledge of it can hang like a cumulous cloud of anxiety, or nag you like a narc when you're out having a good time. Sadly, no bar crawl or house fight ever went anywhere good after 12am; decisions made at that hour are the stuff police blotters and Moth stories are made of. Because it's the crack of night where black cats haunt, and where nightmares get in.

Not that I have anything against that, really. I like cats. Midnight is the deepest of blues for a reason: it's dark. And intoxicating. It's also the furtherest hour from the most stressful, frenetic part of the day, so it has that going for it. When you get lost in conversation with a lover or an old friend, it's an hour you can genuinely exclaim over for having come so quickly. Better yet, it's everyone's favorite time to party at New Year's; perhaps you've used it to share more than one passionate kiss.

In my book, cocktails to sunrise should just be called "night" instead of chopped up into consumable, tickable parts. But if you can get over that, the irritating specificity of it, there are luxurious moments to be found here. Quiet houses, fresh starts. An hour when prayers are offered, melodies are planted for tomorrow's picking. I know, because they've come to me: love and clarity can find you at midnight. And if the low chime of a grandfather clock is what they need to find you in the inky night, than let them ride on the wings of a thousand bad ideas and sleep-deprived mornings. Cuz there's always coffee.

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Shapes like Stars

Columbus Circle, NYC                                                                S. Lybrand 
May we all find ourselves in a moment so perfect and magical, that the air feels like silk on our skin, our bodies vibrate with health and vitality, our heart settles into stillness, our mind focuses so clear and sharp we could pierce clouds, herbs and florals perfume our every breath, the horizon's burnt embers turn water into glitter, trees into gold, and sky into God—and may we all stay in that moment long enough that dark descends and melts into a mess of stars.

Monday, January 9, 2017

The Sound of Silence

The sound of their cold, rigid silence was deafening. He found not speaking to each other so much more effort full, both mentally and physically, than conversation. Casual talk, even if flanked by long periods of quiet, did not have anywhere near the same weight. No, he knew this silence was an aggression, an act of war, and he only hoped she'd tire of the burden and put down her stoney weapon. His white flag was ready. Always proportional to the size of his transgressions, he figured this would be a 2-3 day freeze out. Then they could go back to their easy banter, their complacent bickering. But for now he knew all too well the rules of engagement, and they were simply: do not.

Sunday, January 8, 2017

On the horizon

This will be the year! The year suffering ends, the year no one dies, the year we all learn a lesson. This is the year all the projects get done. The year our home is in order, the year I lose 20 lbs. The year we make more money. The year I get involved. The year we take a stand.

Oh yes, it's the moment we've all been waiting for! A fresh start, the turn of the calendar, a wave of the wand. Suddenly there's the time, patience, funds, power, stamina--to do it all, and to do it magnificently! Thankfully, bliss is just around the corner, perfection mere steps away.

Only about as far as the horizon.

Saturday, January 7, 2017

Where the road leads

The road, if you could call it that, leads into the heart of the jungle, and only our driver seems able to pick out its twists and turns. At one point it disappears altogether, into a shallow river, and we squeal as he changes gears but doesn't hesitate bouncing the jeep directly into the roaring waters. Currents rush up and over our tires, bumper kissing waves, and the boulders and rocks that once pockmarked our path are now what is keeping us all from drowning right here and now in the muddy, marshy riverbed.

But as soon as our swim starts, it's over. We're back on dry ground, bumping along. We eyeball each other with the same thought: the day hasn’t even started yet and we're already having a story-worthy time! So much so that when we stop and pile out in the next clearing, steps away from a sparkling beach, mildly frightened but also exhilarated—we're reminded that we're very much healthy and alive (not to mention privileged).

Little did we know what else was in store. We'd be reminded of our mortality a few more times that day, in adventures that include coral lacerations, vehicular strandification, dwindling water rations, and a stalky, hungry jaguar. Tales for another time! (Comment: the photo is obviously not mine, but the attached jungle nymphs are indeed the same as those who crossed a river in a jeep, not once but twice that day.)