Day 55

We started our relationship with Rhy one year ago today... it has me thinking.

Many couples wouldn't have been strong enough to survive what we tried. Inviting a third into your lives is insane... but love is rarely logical or sane, and love was there for all of us.

A year later, we survived... she lived with us for six months. We broke up with her, and she moved out. We're trying to work on things now, but instead of any of that causing strife for him and I, our marriage is stronger than ever. We appreciate each other more than we ever could've without having had her in our lives. No matter what happens where she and "we" are concerned, this will be the legacy of our relationship with her... it's made him and I stronger. It's made me realize how truly special we are... how rare that sort of love is, and how much it has defined my life, and made me a better person.

And so, today... I post the poems he and I read to each other on our wedding day.

His poem to me:

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

~Pablo Neruda

My poem to him: 

Before you kissed me only winds of heaven
Had kissed me, and the tenderness of rain -
Now you have come, how can I care for kisses
Like theirs again?
I sought the sea, she sent her winds to meet me,
They surged about me singing of the south -
I turned my head away to keep still holy
Your kiss upon my mouth.
And swift sweet rains of shining April weather
Found not my lips where living kisses are;
I bowed my head lest they put out my glory
As rain puts out a star.
I am my love's and he is mine forever,
Sealed with a seal and safe forevermore -
Think you that I could let a beggar enter
Where a king stood before?

~Sara Teasdale


I love you, baby... you are everything I need.

Day 54

My love, you are my life...
It is your breath that fills my lungs
I find my strength in the power of your devotion
When the world crashes down on me,
Your hand on mine rescues me from the pain

I do not know who I'd be without you
Without this love that has gently molded the contours of my existence
Your love surrounds me, shrouds me and I am protected
When the serenity of that protection breaks, you heal me with a touch
With a look of love that time can only intensify

Day 53

I absolutely love the Olympics. I have since I was a child. I remember the 1988 games very vividly, both summer and winter. It's the Winter Games, though, that have always most captivated me.

I've been told that when I was as little as two, if you put me in front of a television with figure skating on the screen, I'd be entranced. I have been aware of this since the age of four when I went to see Ice Capades. My favorite skaters have been Nancy Kerrigan and Michelle Kwan, and if you ask me why, I'll be happy to explain to you how they both were robbed of gold medals at the Olympics.

Today, when I read of Georgian luger Nodar Kumaritashvili's tragic death following a horrific accident in a training run, I cried. His name will be remembered by many for a long, long time... but that is small comfort to those close to him and to any fan of Olympic sports. The danger inherent in luge is one of the things that makes it so exciting to watch, but this was a sobering reminder of how horribly wrong things can go in a sport where you lay on a small sled and speed down a track of ice at 90 mph.

I haven't missed an opening ceremonies in a very long time. The Beijing opening ceremonies where as big as the country hosting those games. Tonight's opening in Vancouver was a stark contrast to that spectacle, and yet no less spectacular. As I watched the Beijing opening ceremonies, I was struck by the vastness, by the number of people. As I watched tonight, I was struck by a sense of modesty, of welcome. China's ceremonies were very keeping with the ways they display national pride, and I would say the same is true of the opening ceremonies tonight in Vancouver.

They kept saying that the goal of the director was to create an intimate setting, and I think this was well achieved. While still grand enough to capture the size of Canada, it was simultaneously representative of the nation's rather small population (in contrast to the US, and to the fact it is the second largest nation in land area). It was like sitting in a large room that is made to feel smaller because of comfortable, oversized furnishings and a huge, welcoming fireplace.

It will be hard to pry me from the television during the next sixteen days. I am captivated by the spirit of the Olympics. I feed on the success of the athletes who work so hard to achieve this dream, and I mourn with those who fail when expected to be victorious. I know the pride that is felt by the athletes who do not go to the Olympics with any expectations other than to do their personal best, and just maybe, in doing so, get a few minutes of recognition for themselves and their countries.

During the Olympics, we get a chance to see sportsmanship, showmanship and sometimes the hubris of athletes. We often see the best of humankind, and fortunately only rarely see the worst. It is easier to forget, while that Olympic flame burns brightly in the sky, that the world is an ugly place, and that humans, to paraphrase Hobbes, are frequently mean, small and brutish.

When countries come together to take their place in Olympic history, we are given the chance to see inside the lives of those who give up so much to pursue their dreams. Considering how few medals are awarded in contrast to how many athletes march during the opening ceremonies, most of them give this up for nothing more than those few seconds they're the focus of the world as they walk in behind their country's proudly waving flag.

The Olympics capture the best of our world. We are given a glimpse into amazing cultures, beautiful landscapes and the lives of those living in  the host nation. We get to feel, as the VANOC CEO John Furlong indicated during his speech tonight, a few moments of the national pride of the host people.

Perhaps, given my affinity for the Games, it is not surprising I studied anthropology as my undergraduate degree. After all, the Olympics are a two week long observation of mankind's highs and lows. I can't wait to experience the amazing moments to follow in the next two weeks.

Day 52

She was not supposed to be, for he and I
were completely one
She came into our lives, an unexpected spring breeze
in February's cold darkness
With a light like none I'd known before,
she filled our hearts with the pureness of new love

Through her eyes, we became more completely one
Though now with hearts opened to hers
We became more than we could have without her

She came to us, as spring turned to summer
But bleak October, with its barren trees
took her from us
In the wake of that loss, I find my love adrift

I cling to him for comfort, for solace
And find it, as always, unfailing and strong
I am not alone, despite my loss
Our love is more because of hers

Still, I ache for a future that glimmers like
that cold February day we met
Her kisses on my lips are bittersweet
Filled with promise, but also the past we cannot recover

Day 51

His arms around my body
Pull me tightly to him
I nuzzle my face in the warmth of his neck
The fragrance that is uniquely his
Washes over me and I know peace

His touch... so soft, so sure
Still as thrilling as that first night
Emotions replace the newness
I soar beneath his fingertips

Fused with him, I know completion
His breath on my neck as we doze
Takes me to a sweet, safe place
Where all my dreams are realized

Day 50

I've been thinking lately of Pandora... and no, I do not mean the planet in Avatar (which I have not seen). I mean the first mortal woman according to Greek mythology. A brief history regarding Pandora. Her name means "all gifted" because after Zeus created her, each god gave her a gift. She was modeled on Aphrodite, so she was beautiful beyond words. She was given charm and grace to match her beauty. She was gifted in spinning and music and dance. She was told by the god of the sea she could never drown. Zeus created Pandora as part of a revenge plot, which, when you think about it, means she didn't have a lot of hope of things going according to plan. She was to marry the brother of Prometheus, whom had angered Zeus when he gave the earth the gift of fire. As a wedding gift, Hermes gave Pandora a beautiful, ornate jar... and promptly told her she must never open it, under any circumstances. Pandora assured him she would not, but then, just to make her life a bit more challenging, Hera, Zeus's wife, gave her curiosity (Hera was kind of a bitch).

Pandora fought the urge. She tried very hard to keep her word, but curiosity is a wicked temptress, and Pandora was taunted by the very sight of the jar. She hid it, hoping it would be easier out of sight, and then, finally, her resolve cracked. The urge to know what was in the jar, overwhelmed her.

She dug it out of hiding, and opened it... and a foul smell was released. Into the air were released every horror known to man. Greed, theft, pestilence, cruelty, jealousy, famine... and on and on.

Then, after a time, something... good... emerged. Hope.

I first read the Pandora myth as a freshman in high school. I was a lonely, awkward girl. I had plenty of friends, but few of them attended the same school... and some were verboten - deemed a "bad influence." When I read about Pandora, two things struck me. One was that the myth says "jar" and not "box." Two, was that on some level I identified with Pandora. Oh, I didn't have the beauty or the talent... but I knew what it was like to allow curiosity to make you do things that you later regretted. I also knew that "hope" was invaluable. In those days, hope was all I had.

When I attended the private high school that would radically change my life forever, I was pleasantly surprised and found it fitting that it was on Hope Street. This is something I have never forgotten, because it was at that school that I found hope again, after having lost it for a while.

I have a need to know. Like Pandora - and her Christian equivalent Eve - this thirst for knowledge has sometimes caused me a great amount of trouble. I am tempted by curiosity, by a burning thirst for more information. In many ways, this is a healthy quality. However, it can also lead to events that cause me pain, insecurity, jealousy, recrimination and sorrow.

Still, I somehow am usually able to find the hope in these situations. Usually, I can see that there is a chance for growth, an opportunity for me to become a more complete person and a better wife and girlfriend. I see the chance for learning, and I am unable to turn from that, even in my worst pain.

So, when life is full of the horrors the ancient Greeks told us Pandora is responsible for releasing, I remember that Pandora also was responsible for giving hope. I cannot fault her, this legendary first woman, for desperately needing to know. She was given all the gifts of the gods, after all... and when you look at the gods, they were deeply flawed. They were selfish and jealous and vengeful. They were beautiful and creative and passionate. Despite being the "perfect" woman, Pandora was really just as ordinary as any woman for whom curiosity has bested. She was just as extraordinary as the gods who created her.

I am not one to let go of hope easily. I suppose, when possessed with a great deal of curiosity, that is a good trait to have. I suppose, when living in a world as cruel and inexplicably unfair as ours, hope is the only thing to push us forward.

Life perfect would be boring, anyway... so as long as there is hope, bring on the challenges. I will take that hope and find a way to conquer them, or make them tools to use to my advantage. I will fight, and I will fail... but I will never give up.