Friday, May 18, 2012

L Words

Ah. I can't figure it out today. For one thing, I'm not feeling as good today as I did yesterday. And either I did too much yesterday (did I REALLY need to trim the Sago palms?) or else this is just the way the third day of this hoopacoodis unfolds.
Who knows?
Not me.

But I've taken the dogs to see Miss Beverly for their grooming and I've been to the library and to Publix and now I'm home again.

I love my home so much. There are so many doors and windows and porches that it is quite possible to spend entire days inside and yet, outside at the same time. There are walls to shelter when shelter is needed and there are places to be sheltered and yet open to it all when it is that which is wanted.

I am so lucky.

I tried to write a post this morning about how I always feel as if I am not living my life to the fullest, even within the small confines of that life. How I despair at wringing all of the goodness out of it by not working hard enough or noticing enough or daring enough or loving enough. How, if I got a report card, it might say, "Mary is not working to her potential."

How my garden could grow so much more and how I could can and preserve so much more, and how I could show the people I love how much I love them more freely, and use my computer to write more and better, and how I do not tend, even the small amount that I have before me to tend, all of the things I yearn to tend to the best of my abilities.

It was sort of depressing. It sort of made me feel (as I so often do) as if I have a big L imprinted on my forehead. Loser, it would stand for. Lame, too. Throw in Lazy.

But then I think, Lucky.
And then, of course, the most important thing of all, Love.

All of that.

For today, there would be Listless. I feel listless and achy and tired.

I need lunch. Another L word.

At least I am not Longing today. I want, however, to be Lounging. Even as I want to Lick the meat of my life clean to the bone, I know I do not have the energy.

Lassitude in the dappled Light of this day.

This Life.


  1. Lately, laughter lolls lazily and labor is labyrinthine.

  2. remember that sign from mexico?

    just be.

    (no "shoulds" allowed.)


  3. Love and laughter are good. And lassitude is okay too. But lamenting who you are is not so good. I think you are great.

  4. You're just sick :) It'll pass.

    BUT... I think mindfulness would probably go a long way to sorting out the feeling of not appreciating fully... if you ever find yourself in a place to appreciate it. Mwa sent me a book, which I like a lot, but havne't implemented to to apathy.

    My friend was prescribed a course by his psychiatrist, and is currently struggling cheerfully with it :)

    I got that on my report card all the time, btw. I think it will be on my gravestone.

  5. I wrote 3 comments and erased every one of them...not good enough. Thank god for the backspace button.

    All I can say is Lovely, yet another L word to add to the list.

  6. Loveable, lovely, loving Lady Luna.

  7. Oh how she tried...
    That's what my epitaph should read.
    Our inner critics are reLentless, aren't they? I'm forever grading my accomplishments too, and when trying to relax keep thinking of things I should do, and when doing things wishing I were relaxing.
    You've been sick, be kind to yourself. And be pleased that you can be all those L words and still kick out an awesome post like this.
    Hope you're feeling settled soon. Funny though, that word feels negative to me, but it shouldn't. We should allow ourselves to settle into the day. Another goal.

  8. Elizabeth- I knew you'd come through with more great L-words.

    Angella- I just went and found that picture again and looked at it. Thank you for reminding me. Although now, I have to admit...I am LONGING again. For that water, that air, that just being.

    Syd- Lamenting. One of my favorite words and an action I am way over-guilty of. I am glad you think I'm okay.

    Jo- I don't know if you remember, but I really got into mindfulness a few years ago. I read a book on it. I need to get that book back out and reread the damn thing.

    Liv- You are an L-word. And YOU are lovely.

    Lulumarie- Same as I said to Liv. Yes.

    Mel- Settling can be amazing.

  9. Love the way you've linked these L-words to the way you're living your life today =o).

    I guess the theme song for today would be "Lay Lady Lay" as in across that big brass bed, or any bed. Have a nap. And feel better fast. x0 N2

  10. You are loving your loved ones to MY full potential Ms Moon... If everyone on this earth would love their families like you do, the world would be a far better place. You got not enough love when you needed it the most yet you are giving it your best shot for your husband and kids and friends.
    You might never be good enough for you, but you are the best for people around you. I can tell!

  11. I love your writing.

  12. This comment has been removed by the author.

  13. Mlle. Luna,

    All due respect, you're as lame as a laureled Olympian.

    as loathsome as a lamb

    as lemon as a Lamborghini

    as lugubrious as winning the lottery

    You're as lousy as a mother's lap.

    That you think you are anything less-than-lovely is lamentable.

    To claim you're a loser is as ludicrous as lachrymating over loss of lactose-loaded liquids; as a tree libeling life-giving leaves, as leggings for a limpet. No offense, but it's leaning on loony; a laughably leviathan lapse in logic.

    Not to lead that your lips ever lie, but i'm loathe to believe you are lazy.

    You're a loafer and i'm the Dalai Lama.

    You're a lagger and leprechauns are lacking of luck.

    You're like warm soapy lather to dirt-laden, low-lifed, street-lingerers. You're like welcoming legions to lost, lonesome, and lovelorn souls. Your locutions are laconic and luscious. You lift laudable things from the landscape of life so us laymen may latch onto, or at least lay languid eyes on the lot of them. You're a looser of lead balls, leashes and lassos. You're a lustrous, love-lavishing lioness. A luminary. A lighthouse; land to a languishing life boat; a lea to a hungry doe; a lambent lantern in the lair of a lunch-less lion; an unlocked lodge for the lorn, the left out, the long-traveled in a livid storm.

    (So, put that in your piping hot water and soak it.)

    You gotta loll when your spirit says loll. Let go. Let it be. Listen to the lilt of a lullaby for a little while. Allow yourself some leeway. Loosen your load for a change. Let your locks down, love. Be leisurely. You deserve it, lady.

  14. N2- That cracked me up. I should have!

    Photocat- Well. Sometimes.

    Anonymous Jo- I like yours, too.

    Ajax- My Lord! I'm impressed and amazed. I need to embroider that on a pillow! Thank you!

  15. yeah, my bad, i have a tendency to get carried away. oh 'L' huh? Let's see...

    You're welcome. I forgot to add, leave the loppers down or not, you'll lay waste to whatever ails you. Those little viruses will learn not to lock horns with Lady Luna. Your leukocytes are likely a lethal lot of club and lance-lugging louts. Like lion sharks with frickin lasers. Or leopards with rocket launchers leaving landmines for the life-leeching, lilliputian microbes.

    As far as your pillow goes, i'd lay a sprig of lavender instead. Maybe a dash of lace, but all those words might be along the lines of lunacy (again, all-due-respectfully).

    Ack, shoot, my OCD seldom lays low, i'll admit. It wasn't my intention to 'L' at you some more, but I hope you're getting wELl (ugh). And sincerely, your words are like a ladle-full of levity, with a little hint of laudanum. As others were able to say in a much less lengthy, long-winded way; lovely. No lyin.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.