mama hips

July 15, 2010

The Morning Commute

Sitting on the bus in my seat against the window, watching the the humanity I travel among every morning. Today, in the blue Septa seat sits a young mother in a burka taking her two boys to school, a bald and stately black man wearing a tan suit reading through a manilla file, an Asian woman I suppose is a nurse wearing scrubs and big ass rhinestone sunglasses mixed in with teenagers, babies, workers and addicts and me, all on our way somewhere. Moving. Intersecting. Together.

I miss Danae, it bothered me today to have to leave. I think about working like this for a few more years and get sad at the time I won’t have with her. I got jealous of Joe and the moms that watch my baby while they stay home with theirs. I got mad at their potty training abilities, mad at their photobooks time and the time they have to develop their children. Its not them, I know. Its me, I know.

I’m having a hard time with all things I didn’t want to happen, happening. Tv all the time, hotdogs, time apart to make more money. I feel that this whining is superficial and to some degree it is. I know what is best for us and what needs to happen. I know my cousins need our help. I know my family needs stability and income on order to live our dream and so then its okay and I am proud and excited by the potential and limitless possibilities that lie ahead.

Sitting on the bus, I wonder if these people know what I know and what their house might look like, their neighborhood or where they are going. Moving ahead or trudging along, being or fighting, breaking or perpetuating cycles. Why and what brought them to this bus ride. and that brings to me to why I am on this bus ride, thinking about these sorts of things.

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July 5, 2010

Festival Lightshow

Filed under: balance, consciousness, feminist mama, freedom, hips, transformation, Uncategorized — Kim Pacini @ 5:26 am

I’ve been listening to the night, the vibrating harmony of buzzes, chirps, crickets. With the most fantastic lightshow ahead of me. The shadows of the trees across the field create the blackest curtain, the fireflies butts aglow to make a light curtain that reveals the inspiration for the fiberoptic version.

Sitting here in the woods, my cub sleeping something sweet and my hubby making lights in the pavilion, I have finally resolved and understood my draw to do many things and develop many ideas. The music in my heart swelled and soared as I began to understand that I need multiple experiences or projects to serve the outlets for the different perspectives I have. In that resolve came the freedom to love what I love because it makes sense now. Everything makes sense in my truth.

Leading to an interweaving of ideas to create a great mane of texture and color into my path. I wasn’t meant to be stationary and cannot learn from being in the same place for long. I have to move so that I can develop the ideas that are constantly leaping in front of me, they require action. Great things can come from my action.

The hair! The beautiful hair my dream of me painting an enormous canvas. My hair was red with streaks of gold and platinum. It was full with some dreads and ribbons weaved throughout. Definitely curls and waves. Oh I love it!

June 15, 2010

Dirty and and tired and loving every second of it.

Just when I think I’ve got this, I don’t. Just when I step out a little on either side to fill in the space I I know I can reach I reach it alright but there is a whole new feeling of discomfort there. Same cycle; I just went from the tense phase to the bugging our stage and now am in the what the fuck stage. Dirty and and tired and loving every second of it.

It’s 8 o’clock at night, I just put Danaë to bed. I am writing this post in the kitchen having just finished packaging tomorrow’s breakfast and lunch for all of us, iPhone in hand to give existence to the flow of words in my head.

Five minutes prior to this, I was living the scene in my movie where I standing in my kitchen at the end of the day, romanced by Ann Peebles in my hips when the music swells compelling me to stop take a deep breath, put my hands over head and let all the exasperation out. The sound of the lady blues: I’m doing what mother after mother after mother has done; work at taking care of their babies. For all of us, its work on some level and for most of us we have had the moment when all we can do is sigh and know its all alright and that bed isn’t too far off.

Fucking hell today took a lot of effort. At one point, I literally didn’t think I could handle another second of exerting energy. Physically drawn to walking out and going to sleep, unable to put a cranky, over awake child to sleep and feeling like I have lost my mom superpowers. But I didn’t, and she went to sleep happy and I got a shower and here I am, clean and tired and leaning on the kitchen counter stealing a moment to write and can’t wait to get to sleep with my love.

June 12, 2010

horscope said it was ok to be a narcissist this week

So Rob Brezny, astrologer to this pagan goddess explains my horoscope this week as:

“If you have long conversations with the image in the mirror this week, I won’t call you a megalomaniacal narcissist. Nor will I make fun of you if you paint 15 self-portraits, or google yourself obsessively, or fill an entire notebook with answers to the question “Who am I, anyway?” In my astrological opinion, this is an excellent time for you to pursue nosy explorations into the mysteries of your core identity. You have cosmic permission to think about yourself with an intensity you might normally devote to a charismatic idol you’re infatuated with.”

I find this timely as I am not sure what the hell I am doing, professionally speaking. I know I want to be in business for myself. I know I want to write.

Am I writer? I can say with some sense of emphatically, yes. After all these years, writing has been a constant activity. So what do I want to do about it. I want to write a book and open a program for girls. Easy enough. So, why don’t I go right to there and stop wasting my time looking to do anything other than that? Well, the thing is that I feel that it is going to happen and so I am not all that concerned about it – my question is to how to get there thoughtfully and in a way that is healthy for us. My first priority is getting money in the door and opening up our lives to allow for scheduling, that is time together, that fits our schedules. Maybe that’s why I’m not bugging out – as much as I want change to happen, I know it is happening at rate that is best for us.

I know all these things I want:

I want this blog to be well developed and thought out and to serve its purpose and marketed with clever mastery of marketing channels and have a community of feminists that begin to bridge a new reality by connecting trough the ways they have made their own choices.  I want to foster that change. I see the goddess coming out strong from me these days, in ways I have never seen before but only stood in awe of. At times, I have caught myself in a window or mirror and am so impressed by what I see looking back. Its in this state, I know I can do anything and I am riding on that most of these days.

I know I have a book in me but I need some direction. Some clear guidance. Should it be about me or of another character. What form would be the best way to present the information? What does one need to be writer? how do I develop my craft? I honsetly feel its as easy an editor. strange.

I would love a selection of wines and good clothing. All sustainable and designed by Sarah. and Betsy Johnson.

I would love land and a garden and flowers and I would love to spend days in it; taking  care of it. I would like a fire pit and a deck an hot tub. I want to sit under the stars every night.I want Danaë to run.

I want to be near the water.

I want to have fun.

Baby is stirring….love.

May 27, 2010

35

Im 35 today. Today, I read a breathtaking account of a life’s activities in From the Teeth of Angels and it says something about how we are born knowing everything and when we come outside we become detached and thats the start of it all. Maybe that’s why I like birthdays, a day when I feel on top of the world, at my best, open to celebrate, nothing matters too much, attractive because I am all that matters and I feel good: the way one feels when they are totally connected. The way we felt on the day we were born.

Today, I felt the presence of being blessed.

35 has been a simple day. To say nothing special happened would be to discredit that which happens everyday around here as not being special which is ridiculous. I felt so much joy today..a new dress – a short! dress. I havent wore that hemline in a little while and settled into it the way a sway settles into your whole body when you feel a motown song: familiar and right and good and sexy. I have been the recipient of a ton of well wishes from all over my life. I had general tso’s tofu  for the first time and Joe made me the best tacos I’ve ever had while I played outside with Danaë and her girlfriends Taylor (5) and Sharea (9). My husband and daughter gave me so much love and I am elated to know it will be there tomorrow and the next day and the next. This is my everyday, pretty much. A fantastic place to be and that what 35 is all about.

In this year, I have earned my womanly body with hips that have expanded after bearing a child.

This year, something shifted and I was no longer scared, when the fear passed I was calm and filled with the most natural and elated feeling that I all I want to do it be with Danaë. That taking care of my family is delight like no other.

To make it to 35, I battled some demons and slayed some dragons. Their presence had been there for all of my life; they were the strongest and last to go of a certain set of beliefs I had formulated somewhere along the line. Fear, fear and more fear. See ya suckas! Now that they are gone, I can sit still and listen to what I know is going on. I’m not distracted by a ferocious lion demon with green dragon scales.

I thought 35 was something that would have a nostalgic impact, a wish for something younger. I am pleased, albeit a little surprised, to  say that is not the case at all. the goddess refuses to feel something so trivial.

I see it this way: I thought I wanted to eat more vegetables and all of the sudden I realize I am eating tofu broccoli sugar snap biting sweet delicious vegetable soup for lunch, cashews for snacks, and sweet potatoes for dinner.  It just happened. I thought I wanted more ritual in my life and have brought yule into our family’s traditions while writing the annual birthday ritual. I have excelled at yoga and have started our emergency fund.

As Miss Penny Lane says, its all happening.

March 20, 2010

Sleeping Baby

Tonight, the position my daughter fell asleep on me was the sweetest ever. I think that every night. There is simple resonance when I am with her. She makes me so happy. It’s amazing to what degree life has changed.  I had no idea it could or would. I could not understand the difference and I  can understand when people who see this and think they don’t want their life to change. I felt the same way. What they don’t understand is how life is better; how it has changed because what was needed to evolve.

Evolution is not a bad thing, nor is change. Neither is nutella and strawberries which I am eating right now. This kind of change lets you let go to what does not matter and live by what does. In that, there is freedom and in freedom there is room for all sorts of creative, inspired powerful good sumptuous, sexy hips moving opportunity. BECAUSE, you are free to not care about anything that doesn’t matter. You are too busy. You are too high on the laughter and kisses. You are too consumed with her every movement and sometimes your experience of it.

It’s a ridiculous place to be. I feel that I have started to be swept up on a wave. That its caught me up and I’m gliding on top of it, on it, as it, fluid and part of it. And so what the hell. The momentum feels right and we are happy. It’s okay because I know that regardless of what happens, that every night I have her sleeping on me and really, that’s all that matters.

February 2, 2010

synchronicity

Six months ago I stepped off of the 23 bus at Ridge and Spring Garden streets to escape the feeling wanting hurl that accompanies the block by block stop and go at what has to be an enormous velocity for an hour. that is one long city bus ride but it does give me an hour to read or listen or look or sleep or whatever. I have an hour to settle into the morning’s story; an hour to connect with whatever is going on and its presence in the beginning of the day. breakfast for the mind of sorts. i see young, young girls taking theirs kids to somewhere..daycare?, i see girls their same age going to school. I see the woman they call ghetto booty sometimes – shes a connection of round jiggly bubbles that with a big ass Cheshire cat smile of some sort of bliss who always listens to music and she sings and is moved by the music and its loud and its eccentric as all hell and shes quite an inspiring thing that reminds of different planes of reality. In the murmur, there are phrases like, “one day at a time”, “just got off work”, “he’s locked up” mixed with some laughter, some “heeeyyyy” of familiar faces in passing. the bus is city living. Even though we have one the most poorly managed and inefficient public transit systems ever, i still love public transit.

on that particular day I was re-reading Even Cowgirls Get The Blues, the part about that its only catfish who can predict the coming of an earthquake. when an earthquake is imminent, catfish freak out to the vibrations. other than this extreme reaction by the only species intune with the enormous, low, low internal vibration of the earth no one can accurately predict something as friggin significant as an earthquake. all seismologists can do is predict the probability of a fucking earthquake.

this is what I am reading about when I close my book, step off the bus six blocks early into a morning that predicts spring is on the way. it was grey and raining lightly. my favorite weather. bright green and lush. right before the rain starts, when the air is heavy and wet and something is coming as the wet air hangs, silence. everyone waiting. the clouds are pregnant. and then it rains. birth birth birth  and cleansing and water and introspection. this when I feel most creative, most intune, most aware. and absolutely driven to write. sometimes, i have to. the need is to compelling. if the wet air hangs, sagging lower and lower with weight, that weight is pushing and pushing to come out and words are the only way to do it.

as i step out of the bus, getting my shit situated for my morning walk to the world when i hear dude say from the stoop behind me to whoever on the phone, “why can’t anyone predict the coming of an earthquake?’.

in the next month, my husband lost his job. our car was broken in to. my parents were in a car accident with my baby. we had to borrow money from both our families to pay our bills. every sense of security we might have had was taken away when we looked to the future, the very near future and were not sure we were going to be able to basic things like buy diapers for our daughter or pay or mortgage. but thats not the kicker.

what is fucking triumphant about this whole thing is intention. i/we have aligned myself with my intentions. i have come to evolve in the idea my reasons.  rev-a-fucking-lation! the magnitude of this is massive.

that, my friends, is some synchronicity. and synchronicity is some cosmos speaking shit.

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