When I first came to Boston to dance Stephanie was in most of my classes. She was tall and flexible, a powerful dancer. Along the years we were in class together off and on. She was always a good dancer quick at picking up combinations. For the last 10 years, Stephanie battled stage 4 melanoma, and the spread of the cancer this year moved to her brain. She passed over last Saturday, while I was out of the country. I will miss her bright fighting spirit and golden curls.
Travel well and dance the stars Stephanie
M

there is a fading pattern of turkey tracks in the snow outside my window today. the soft weather warming has faded their edges, revealing the autumn leavings underneath. i'm pausing between fall and winter here in my heart, uncomfortable and waiting for the next breath and rush to carry me into a season.

the turkeys this year have been a colorful blessing to watch wander in and out of the back yard and its periphery. we joke about how many dinners we could get from them, but the reality is more multifaceted than just a joke of filling our bellies: they have a home here, they are fed and loved and appreciated for the simple fact of being a part of nature, and thus, being a part of our overlapping lives.

the overlap intrigues and tires me - not just the turkeys, or the nature, or the home - but the lives intersecting and carrying on as well. when the cards overlap, i am told point blank to appreciate my blessings and not count the sorrows, that yes the sorrows are real and painful, but the blessings are there for a reason. i stood, mouth agape and stunned, with the falling tower in my hand - a card for the year - and then cried. this card is (divorce, betrayal, things i should/did see coming, hurt) to me. even in the back of my head where the logic sits and shakes her head often and says yes but it means good things to follow, necessary change and i know exactly how many blessings i was open to when chris and i broke (and broke, and shattered), i still remember the pain of all those pieces. that isn't something that goes away, and i don't know if it ever will.

and later, talking with crystal and she says well, is it better to cry at the card or to tell the universe to bring it? and i laugh because perhaps maybe i've learned one lesson this year. maybe. logic will win out on this and even this morning, in praying i repeated if it be for the good of me, let thy will be. because i do want to grow, and change, and be the best of all the best parts of me and sometimes that means being the hurt in someone else's life, or letting the tower - and the cards - fall where they need to and building anew with a stronger intention in the new year.

i am struggling with my words for the new year - pick one and set out the intention - but with each word the pitfalls seem frustratingly obvious. do i want momentum to pick up all the balls i've dropped this year? do i want motivation (nothing says motivation like being poor... now lets try REALLY poor!)? do i want focus (from all the way up in the tower? focusing on one thing may not be the best idea, especially as the ground rises up to meet me...)

and maybe, instead of all of that, my word will be simply 'gratitude'.

and i will drink in the nature that meets my window so readily, with peace.

History Channel is running a day long programming schedule on Freemasons. The subject of their nefarious plots to take over the world comes up and one guy (sorry, i didn't catch his name because it's background noise) says:

"Yes, but if we can't agree whether to serve ham or tuna sandwhiches after the meeting, I suspect that we're not going to taking over the world any time soon."

Dude. I ... I know. I KNOW the feeling.

Even if not on a worldwide scale.