My First Valentine

2.14.13

Valentine's Day always turns people's thoughts to hearts, flowers, candies and love.

We remember past heartbreaks.  We contemplate future loves.  We share our hearts with significant others.

This Valentine's Day, my mind pulled up and reminded me of my first love.

She was beautiful.  She took my breath away.  When I first laid eyes on her, I knew love and knew I would always do whatever I could to take care of her and protect her.

I wanted to hold her.  "She's heavy," said my mom.

"That's okay," I said, "I'm strong!"  I held out my arms and held my sweet baby sister in my arms.

I loved climbing into her crib to sleep next to her.  I'd turn on my little transister radio so we could fall asleep to music together.  When she would wake up crying in the night, I'd sing to her until she calmed down.  I was so proud when I was old enough to go to school and she and my mom would walk me there.  She didn't talk right away because I was always talking for her.  I loved "translating" for her and helping mom figure out what she needed.  She's always been my best friend.  We always got along great...unless one of us had a friend over...then we'd fight like cats and dogs.  It wasn't until I was an adult that I realized it was out of jealousy...I was afraid to lose her.

We built forts, played outside, played Barbies, made "haunted houses" to try and scare each other, played dumb games on long car trips to keep each other entertained, told dumb jokes to make each other laugh, sang stupid songs just because they were that silly, stayed up all night star-gazing and talking about anything and everything, shared clothes, for many years shared a bed then a bedroom, got in trouble together...

When we got into junior high and high school, we started going different directions.  We began having different interests.  We had different friends.  I still loved her so very much, but, I was distracted from her by school, church, crushes, life.

And yet, she's been there for me.  Through all the various relationships, through the heartaches, through the exciting times, through the frustrations.  She's never told me what I should do.  She always gave her opinions on things, but always trusted me to follow my heart and do what was right.

She inspires me to be the best I can be.  She motivates me to stand up, advocate, speak up for myself.  She prompts me to do the same for those that can't.  She is strong and doesn't take any nonsense and doesn't give any.  She means what she says.  She says what she sees.  She is my heart.  She is my love.  She is my sister and my best friend for all time.

I'm fiercely proud of her and would move mountains to help her.  I will fight for her.  I will stand beside her.  I'll have her back as surely as I know she has mine.  There's no one else I would rather have on my side.  I truly count it a privilege to have her in my life.

She always has been and always will be my first Valentine.

Ordered Chaos & What I'm "Into"

chaos order
order chaos
ordered chaos
chaotic order

structure

I change my pattern
to better fit the person I think you think you see.

The pattern swirls,
the chaos settles
and I become more me.

I breathe,
I am reborn,
I see the world around me
with new eyes.

I stand in awe
to be a part of the chaos,
a part of the order,
a part of me.

The other day I ran into the mother of a dear, long-time friend. 

I said, in my usual enthusiastic, embracing way, "Mrs. X!  So good to see you!  How are you?"

The first thing she said to me (literally, the first thing...) with what I assumed was concern, was "I know what you're into, Gina."  Not the first sentence I was expecting, and it took me a brief moment of confusion to try and catch up.  I thought she was offering condolences for the loss of my dad (the look that I thought was concern threw me).  Still on that track, I thought maybe I misheard her and thought maybe she meant, "I know what you're facing," and went with that.

"I don't think it's right.  I know what you're into," she repeated.  "You KNOW there's only ONE true way."  I, in a still slightly flabbergasted way, shrugged non-commitally, still not quite on the same page as she (in reflection...it felt very much like Kwai Chang Caine...hahaha!)  She continued forward, "You are in jeopardy of losing your very SOUL."

Finally.

I caught up.

What I'm "into".

Ah.

Without any rancor, bitterness, or defensiveness, and with absolute complete sincerity, stillness, and conviction I replied, "I'm okay with that."

There was a lifting.
I AM okay with that.
Because I know where I am.
I know who I am at this moment.
And I completely disagree with her.

But, arguing isn't going to make it any different.  Defending my position at this juncture isn't going to assuage her fear, her disapproval, her disappointment in me.

When I greet someone, it's with an open heart, open arms, a sharing of the joy, light, & beauty that I carry within me.  I am making an offering to the sacredness that I see in each person.  It is my gift that I readily share with others.  It is my tithe of my being paying tribute to the Universe. 

It's truly intriguing to me that the people who seem to reject that offering the most are some of the ones who say that they don't judge others because judgement is up to God; those who say they love everyone; those who desire to share the acceptance and "washing away of Sin by the Blood of JESUS".

 
And yet, as a group, they are some of the most unhappy people I know. 

I saw with much clarity that day.  I saw the fear.  I saw absolute terror.  I saw a being lost in an unknowing and unknown space of Universe.  She truly didn't see herself in the greatness that is existence.

So.

That made me pause to reflect.

What am I "into"?

I am into love.
I am into making the World a better place.
I am into helping others.
I am into honoring the Universe and the cycles we travel.
I am into communicating with others.
I am into seeing beauty.
I am into laughter.
I am into the uplift, the upswell, the lightness of being.
I am into letting you be you.
I am into science, math, and rational thought.
I am into art, culture, and ceremony.
I am into being me.
I am into being.
I am into.
I am.

To Mrs. X, I say thank you.  Thank you for holding a mirror up to me.  Thank you for causing me to reflect upon myself.  Thank you for being my teacher.  Thank you for being a part of the Universe contemplating itself.  Thank you for being you.  I meant, with all sincerity, that I appreciate your prayers, your concern, and your love.  I honor that and hold it very dear to my heart.