{ i want one...but what do i want? }

king charles spaniel puppy spotted here

i think king charlies have the sweetest faces in all of dogdom. or one of the sweetest faces, anyway. my friends have a KC named Finnegan. it is quite. precious.

in other news, if i could have a dollar (no nickels and dimes for this princess) for every time my boss sat on the phone with some company or another trying to get access to his personal online accounts because he's forgotten his username or password . . . then i wouldn't have to sit at any job listening to any boss fumble around with anything. my current boss is quite unashamed to conduct copious amounts of personal business in plain view. i think i'm experiencing the difference between working for a medical corporation and working for a guy who owns his own practice . . . his time is worth top dollar (as he never fails to remind me) and apparently he has the right to spend it however he wants as a result.

--- but back to puppies and other such things ---

i've been doing some thinking (and dreaming and crying) about what the heck i'm doing with my life. about the difference between where i am and where i want to be. about whether or not we ever completely close that gap between how things are and how we wish they were. about how that gap just might be the thing that keeps us moving onward and upward. about the availability and elusiveness of happiness. about what's involved in the concept of happiness for me. about love, loss, and regret. about what it costs to leave, and what it costs to be left behind. about all the unsung poetry in my mind --- no matter how much of my voice i've found in the past few years, there are registers of the soul's vocal range that i've yet to exercise.

so how to take off? how to start singing? how to stay in a place i feel called to and trapped in all at once? i'm coming to terms with the fact that i'm not a person who functions well on big bold moves and risky maneuvers . . . and while that makes me feel dowdy, unadventurous, and stunted compared to people who seem quite able to take outrageous leaps in life without much difficulty or prolonged regard for potential consequences, it's simply who i am. that doesn't mean i'm automatically exempt from ever going out on a limb. it just means that while i'm on my own with lots of freedom, i'm also on my own and ultimately it's me that's going to take care of me. i don't have a spouse's income to fall back on. i'm not a "sweet, i'll just crash on your couch for a few months" person. i am the sole provider for myself. i am my own financial security and health benefits. i am my own future, my own down payment, my own retirement. it's just me. and while i have dear friends and family who support me in many ways --- when tax time comes, no one's claiming me. i'm on my own.

i think it's romantic, exciting, and attractive to say we'd take the leap (whatever leap that may be) without a safety net if our heart was drawn to it. i think that kind of life --- an open, at-the-ready, ever-inspired existence --- is what we're conditioned to think is desirable. isn't that at the heart of every single frickin' romcom ever made?? follow your heart. take the big risk. blurt your secret. now that's really living.

but what about those of us who have taken risks and not been rewarded? forget the sting of history --- what about those of us who simply require a little more safety to be built into our lives than the freer spirits of the world?

what about us?

for me, it's a hard thing to find . . . the balance between accepting that part of me that thrives with a little safety, and staying too long in a safe place.

the colors & collections of she

that's a glimpse into my heart today, friends. i think for now i have to do with these thoughts what i do with my small but precious possessions (the nail polish, the parfums, the rings, the lipsticks, the moleskines, the plates and bowls). collect them, arrange them, look at them, become accustomed to their placement. pick them up from time to time, rearrange them, turn them over in my hands. forget about them, worry them, compose them.

as far as what action arises from these tumbling, precious thoughts?
i haven't the slightest idea.

she