washwords

Today, I am full. I am plenty-full.

[PhotoSquash a Plenty by Travelinfool55 on flickr]

It is not the turkey or the squash. It is not even that the waiting is over. It’s not.

And my belly still hurts and my heart is still racing and will be until things are settled, or more settled anyway.

And yet….

I am full. Full of love. Full of family. Full of old friends and new loves and putting old fears to rest and embracing new securities and love and hope. I am full, and full of thanks and it is good.

Oh Hai. Remember me?

Probably not, save the five of you faithful friends who keep checking lo these many weeks. And mom. Hi mom! Shout out to mom!!!

Anywho, it’s been more than a month I’m sad to say and I don’t even have a good excuse. Just… well… life.  In a good way, life has been…. happening!  It’s allllll good. No, seriously, it’s ALL good, really good, joyousness.

I’m getting married, moving in finalllllly with my love (shh, don’t say anything. you’ll jinx it), have reconnected with tons of old friends (thanx facebook!), and making new ones in the way i love best, through long shared writing (thanks election and funny long political email chains enabling bright fun people to reveal their best selves).

And even better… good is all around me. Babies are being born, brides seem to be multiplying all around me, my beloved niece “bucket” is starting to talk and make faces and have a spirit, a true self.

Work is quieting down, papers are starting to fall into place and although there’s one final step left (or two) towards my much-anticipated new chapter, I am starting to breathe again.

Because the other thing is… the reason it was so hard to be here, especially so in October… is because it’s tough to be apolitical (as my government job and all journalistic jobs before it) require when it matters so much. So very much. I’m a cynic (again, job requirement of journalism); I voted how I voted and hoped for the best but inside I was unconvinced it really truly mattered. Until this time. When it did. When it does.

And I am breathing again.

Yes, the economy is bad; yes, we’re feeling it directly and see plenty hit harder everyday; yes, much like my much-anticipated next personal chapter we’re a step, or two, or twelve away. But it’s coming.  I can feel it. And I can breathe again.

Today is Yom Kippur, the day of atonement for my faith, the closing of the 10 day period of the new year, of reflection for the year behind, of looking to the year ahead.

Truth be told, I love this time of year. I love the rituals of cleansing, purifying,  the haunting melodies,  the looking ahead and celebrating first so that filled up with love and hope and promise, you can more properly atone for sins, and reform into someone better, stronger, more authentic.

I especially love the poetry, the music of our services. I sing “Avinu Malkeinu” to myself throughout the year (no doubt especially annoying friends and neighbors this time of year) and unlike my favorite songs in English where it’s the lyrics I most connect to, focus on; in prayer, it’s the melody – the haunting beautiful notes that express better where my heart is dwelling then the actual words sometimes can.  “Our Father, Our King” the literal translation of that prayer’s title, isn’t what the song speaks to me.

Rather, it says loudly, softly, heartfully, tearfully, pleadingly, “I’m sorry.”

It says: I’ll do better. I’m working on it. I do have love in my heart of hearts, I do appreciate the riches I have.

It says: I am joyful, exhuberant, warmed by this community, even when they are strangers. I am home here with this familiar melody I seem to have always known, by the ability to sing fully, forcefully, till I’m dizzy and hoarse.

It says: Thank you. Thank you, God, if that’s what you believe in. Thank you friends and loved ones. Thank you strangers for forgiving me the sins and offenses I don’t even know I’m committing. Thank you love for finding me, thank you world for recognizing the talents and strengths I have.

And it says this: There’s going to be hurt, there’s going to be mistakes and pains and some of them are going to be your fault. And