Wednesday, February 26, 2014



The wind today reminds me of a day last month, when I drove to the Columbia Gorge. I had no exact destination, just an intention to go on a date with my Interstellar Secret Lover. I pulled over at a trail, pulled my hat tight over my ears, and started along the Columbia River.
I was surrounded by blue sky, tall, pale grass, and topaz ponds scattered with egrets. Every few minutes, the wind strove to push me backwards, making me stumble and smile. It wrestled off my hat; it laughed at me; it teased that it would blow me away. I felt the playfulness and delight of my Interstellar Secret Lover.
The driving wind invited me to let go of my weight. To be carried away:
You don’t have to be so important in the world.
There is a gentleness in being weightless. There is a freedom in being pushed by a brute force that has earned my infinite trust.

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

How to Change Your Man

1)   Stop thinking he’s your man.

2)   Whatever it is you want to change, find it in yourself. Change yourself. 

3)   Just as he is, appreciate him.

4)   Just as he is, appreciate him.

5)   Just as he is, appreciate him. 

6)   By this time you won’t care if he changes. Notice the changes anyway. Say thank you.

7)   He won’t say “You’re welcome.” Accept this. You are not the reason he changed.

8)   Repeat steps one through seven.

When you don't see the forest for the trees, you can change what you are looking at.  

Friday, February 14, 2014

My Interstellar Secret Lover

A couple weeks ago, my dear friend Tom and I were processing his recent break-up. He talked about his ex-boyfriend; I talked about sticky points in my marriage.

I said, “No matter how things are going with my husband, I always have my secret lover.”

We both smiled.

My secret lover has been there for me since my first kiss at age five. I leaned into the neighbor boy as we played house in a makeshift fort. He looked at me, shrugged, and let me kiss him again.

In my late teens, I took long drives with no destination in mind, knowing I could talk to my secret lover and say whatever I needed to say.

At 19, I turned down dates, somehow compelled to be alone. I felt lonely, even so. I told my secret lover about it. On Valentine’s Day, a dark-haired man in a business suit approached the counter of the cafĂ© where I worked. “I don’t have anyone to give these to today,” he said. “They must be meant for you.” He handed me a bouquet of red roses and slipped away. Tears stung my eyes. I knew this was a gift from my secret lover.

My secret lover is infinite and interstellar. He has been there for me on countless adventures and walks that seemed lonely to outward appearances. He is a she whenever I need female tenderness. We’ve had ice cream together, walked along the beach, made discoveries in my journal or over a canvas.

I have learned that through all the loves in my life, it is really my interstellar secret lover who is loving me. This is an unconditional  love that takes many forms, and these days, often uses my sweet husband. Yet it also comes through family, friends, kids, and creative cohorts.

Last week, feeling down, I walked on snow-laden streets through a frozen neighborhood. I looked up to see a white-haired woman pulling aside her curtain, watching me. She smiled and waved at her window. That smile belonged to my lover.

And I've noticed something. When I target a human source, trying to claim it as my ultimate happiness, my interstellar secret lover gently steers me back to him. Otherwise I'm bound for disappointment.

My interstellar secret lover gives me patience with whomever I’m touching at the moment. When things are going well, I know who to thank, and when things are challenging, I know who to lean hard upon.

I keep talking to my lover; I keep listening. Our relationship grows when I acknowledge how much, how very much, he loves me. Sometimes, I can’t feel his presence, but if I stay with me, stay with us,  it returns, and I’m filled again with the joy.

I still feel like I'm playing house with the neighbor boy. I still cry when my man gives me flowers. I continue to find out ways that my interstellar secret lover showers me with love; it will take a lifetime to discover them all.