Dangerous Compassions

happy anniversary to my beautiful love

You know I’m really fastidious.  So I can see why I get upset when others are not.  Leaving out foods that belong in the fridge or on ice.  Chitchat when things need to be put away.  Questions unanswered–do they think I’m asking questions for my health?  Kitchens left a serious mess for the next persons.

Maybe another name for fastidious is “stick up the butt.”  As in, “Laura-Marie has a stick up her butt.”  Do I really want that to be my legacy?

No, I’d rather joy.  But there’s no song in my heart at the moment.  I feel beaten down by life.  I have no balance between work and play.  Feeding 55 people is no joke.

This morning my friend gave me and Ming a beautiful card.  There’s art depicting dogwood flowers.  That’s a very tippytop favorite flower of mine. 

I remember dogwood trees blooming in the redwood forest, those white flowers so perfect and strange with the little notch in the petals.

They bought too much spinach too early.  Before, we were expecting 80.  So we didn’t go through as much spinach as expected.  It’s getting withered or slimy, slightly yellow.  I could go through and pick out the good leaves.

But I’m so tired.  My back, my brain, my heart.  My feet.  My legs that ache.  My mind and its plans.  My soul and its feelings.  I’ve felt everything, lately.

Today, our anniversary, I kinda wish Ming and I could go off and soak in the hot springs, relax, whisper about the past and the future. 

Instead, we were up before 5am.  I was tasked with waking up a Walker at 5:30.  I was afraid I would scare her dog and the dog would bite me.

“Do you want me to wake her?  I’m not afraid of the dog,” Ming said.

“You’re wearing boots.  And you’re not afraid to hurt a dog.  I’m afraid to hurt a dog,” I said.

We saw some Walkers off.  We got lunch stuff ready, but I’m afraid they forgot the silverware.

It feels fitting that Ming is serving others and will walk a couple hours in the desert, if all goes according to plan.  I bless him to do what he needs to do, and he’ll come home around 4:30pm.  We can have some kind of date.

And hopefully we have at least 30 more years ahead of us, together.  He’s 52, but his family members get to be old, so maybe longer.

I’m thinking about that future and feeling optimistic.  Also, I remember one night long ago.  We were in Las Vegas and there was an open mic.  We braided each other’s hair in the kitchen and went out, holding hands.

Lately there’s not enough comfort, for me.  The vegan burgers are so lovely and relaxing, to know I didn’t hurt any animals with my meal, though of course, suffering is everywhere–maybe the farmworkers were exploited, transporting foods caused pollution, or a family of mice was destroyed by the plow.  Probably all three.

Well, we can do our best.

Thank you to Ming, to Johnnie for marrying us, to all the Sacred Peace Walkers for their love and support, to the desert itself, to the land itself, the sky, the secret cloud.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

4 replies on “happy anniversary to my beautiful love”

Hey LM,

I am not fastidious at all. I am very lazy and messy. Maybe if we lived together we would not get on. I'm locked out of my email which is why I am messaging you here. It's a public holiday here today. Lots of loud people. I don't like it. Have been reading Hafez.

hey, Mama! thanks for your love!

hey, dreamer! I'm lazy and messy, while fastidious about some things. it's mixed. 🙂

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