What?

You didn’t know Spring was a verb? Get with my grammatical whims, People.

I’ve spent this evening springing … slowing down with The BF, on our front porch.

There is just something inherently good about a spring evening spent on a porch. Swinging away, as we watch the world walk by, and drinking some San Pell.

It felt glorious.

I suddenly noticed so many things that I had yet to see.

Oh, like say, this here dogwood in the front yard. Don’t ask me how I possibly could have missed it … I’m actually embarrassed to admit so, but this is the price one certain Taurus pays for keepin’ it real : mind lapses.

This is also what happens when you get too caught up in your suffering. You stop noticing. Such a drag, because then I had to ask The BF, just how many days has Mr.Dogwood been so beautiful? Why do I constantly want to give gender status to objects? Allow me to blame the Romance languages.

The thought that I might have even missed one day of this gorgeous bloom was enough to make me file away: suffering is f-ing stupid. F you, suffering!

I felt a lot better after my suffering F you’s. See. This is when F-ing becomes quite necessary. As well as beneficial.

The BF and I didn’t really talk about much, now that I’m thinking about it, which maybe is what made it such a great evening.

Just us. Breathing in the warm, fresh air. Enjoying the beingness. It was so glorious that I even forgot how yesterday, when I called The BF and asked him to make a special Krogering run for mangoes, only to have him bring me three unripened mangoes — I totally forgot about it.

I swang it away and I forgave him. Because it turns out, returning home when your significant other has asked you to go get them the only thing that sounds good to eat and brings it back and it’s inedible … watch out. It could cause nuclear warfare.

One of those little things that just sets off bigger things …  things that really have nothing to do with The BF, but are somehow represented in those god forsaken mangoes … back to that suffering {f you, suffering!}.

I tried to think of other things and people I needed to forgive … any lingering residuals … because when you swing, it somehow makes it easier to forgive. And it makes everything much more funny.

To think I was going to go crazy all over mangoes! It’s a good thing I don’t have my own reality tv show. I think I’d scare too many of you. I’d be all fine and calm and centered one minute, probably throwing out some good sounding Yogi Bhajan quote about the breath and the moment and then 30 mins later I’d be ready to go a-wall on someone.

I exaggerate. I’m not that extreme. I’m merely being honest in the challenge it can be to stay mindful, to live a waking life.

I want to be as honest as I possibly can be. And I don’t want to be afraid to do it. To say the hard things that need to be said. To even risk looking like I’m a complete psycho. It’s important to me now, at this point in my life, to simply be me. To stay true to my authentic self.

It scares the living shit out of me. Yet, I cannot see any other way to be. And I’m hoping you won’t judge me for it and I won’t judge you and together we can come together.

Together, not separate. I truly believe that. We are all in this together. All my praying and all those Saints I was around in France … they told me something.

Of course, like I usually do, I tried to ignore it. And then I told TC, which is never all that brilliant of an idea, because he just thought I was crazy for, hearing GD voices in the GD church. I really need to buy him some pom-poms.

So I thought, omg, cannot write what I am hearing. All will think I’m drunk on too much fab French vino or Veuve or both and they’ll laugh.

Except. I think we’re much better friends than that. So I will tell you. It’s silly now, I’ve built it up too much. But here goes …

Take care of each other.

I keep hearing it all the time now. The People are a little relentless like that.

And it’s these sorts of nights … when I’m brought back to the present, when I am out of my head and the self talk long enough to feel clear minded, positive and good and know this world is a beautiful place. Spring can put such a good look on everything like that.

The BF does, too. You know, it’d be a hell of a lot easier to stay pissed at him if he didn’t look so good. And! He doesn’t have a bad side. How unfair is that?! I thought everyone had a bad side, or at least a side that was better than the other — that’d be my left.

Springing is doing this body and mind good. It reminds me of my Universal Truths. Though really that can be summed by one word : love.

I, of course, like to use lots of other words, too. But let’s just leave it at love tonight.