Writing and Mark No Judge

if you dont wake up and start writing, you will lose stuff
especially if you sit trying to recall all the angles, pieces and faces you wish to write about.the dreams
and if you write at multiple places, planning a layout in your head, of where to put what
then worse yet if you stop to ponder how delicious a ten hour night of uninterrupted sleep is and then the fabulousness continues when you stay in bed after all of that to still languish curled up further
then you get up and see a glass jar that you boiled to scrub last night knowing it would make a lovely drinking glass, so before you do anything, you are scrubbing, and then you think, it is 9am, CBS Sunday Morning, might as well make something for its enjoyment. Coffee? Tea?
this time it is mayan coffee (cayenne pepper, chocolate, coffee) and a tab of blackstrap molasses...i love it when i get so healthy in my indulgences

all of that
and i eh start to write yet
you see the process and obstructions, then?

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"selling lifestyles"
last night's dreams
what does it mean when you keep dreaming the same themes and images:
babies, caretaker, midwife - i realize i am a midwife of dreams, plans, businesses and visions. mothers, homes, salons, bedrooms, meetings, dining tables

i swivel between being a big sister, as old as I am, but maybe I am really not as old as my number and age, or maybe I am living multiple lives all in one.

parents, mothers, my father once
business people

babies seen that turn into birds - red winged brown doves

feeling my sinuses blocked at some time during the night and wondering what was it due to: smoke ? from outside? something I ate? the turkey? the fruta? the congestion from the extreme lighting up in recent days?

but the most beautiful scenes to reproduce
a bedroom filled and centered with a huge padded bed whose top reached the bottom of a wall of french paned windows that had the perfect view of gardens, heights, tree tops and yet it seemed you could jump out of it. i was a grown daughter to a mother in that scene

before i close let me try to recall the piece i had in mind: a list or line of writing titles , each telling their own story without ever expanding it
but none of them come to me now

moving on now with a wonderful melange of memories that i cant be specific about but leave me with a wonderful feeling.


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mark

i just had an epiphany while washing my mug from israel that is really my mother's souvenir, i have taken to using it as it is the biggest mug in the house and quite artful actually, while the other one I have taken to the office

but it is that people may act in ways at times that is more about pressures, challenges and corners rather than 'who they are' so maybe we are to forgive them and give them much rope that may not ever hang them/ and what i am saying, dont judge. dont be so quick to think you know it all, have all the answers, aware of all the corners and dynamics the other person is juggling

someone called me yesterday out of the blue, but i think it was really us starting a new life and turning a new leaf that started on mother's day...an interesting story i thought to write about by the way...two grown people, one fifty, the other thirtyfour, and both of us running from our mothers. talk about being sixteen again, which is another story I have written about, i feel i am living life all over again, from high school..and preparing to launch life from your parents' house...anyway this new leaf started on mother's day when his mother was having a family gathering and my mother was cooking, and because we got caught up and squeezed in between movements in an attempt to snatch a moment for ourselves and each other, what was to be a short snatch ended up--= we were forced to spend five hours together, he missing his mother's gathering, i missing lunch with mine. how hilarious for somebody watching, who i dont know. he was vex but never showed or portrayed it, then when we were released, he thought to have lunch by me, except it was full of pork, chops and calaloo with pigtail, so even trouble and drama is elongated cause you done in the madness already...

so when he phoned me yesterday midday asking me what i was doing and I said making cornbread, he had planned to come over but because I was alone he opted instead to call me when...I invited him over, offering to make coffee, he declined. he truly acts like a teenager trying to avoid parental presence and gaze...but "save me a piece of cornbread" he says. but at the beginning i wanted to ask, and did, "how you manage to think of me" in the one week short of eleven months since i have met him..and after counting my fingers I cant believe it has been so long, so effortlessly...he has never phoned me on a saturday i dont think and surely not when he wakes up. and his retort was, "is there a problem?" i said no , and he said, "well dont ask" forever the gunman bravado talk and posture but the sweetest person underneath - at least that is what i see. but there have been rough times....and one of those was thinking he was present with me for my money which i had none but everybody thinks I bathe in;, and for my car, which he actually offered to and fixed without any money from me, and then he rented when it was available...but it occurred to me getting to this point how sometimes we may mis-interpret what people do, what they are about, what their motivations, mostly for all we do not know and what we misconstrue. so imagine if yesterday i had opened my dumb ignorant mouth and said :what is it you want from me>> when that may not have been it at all. i keep learning how it is never good to be so  quick to judge others and by quick i mean never because after eleven months, various scenes and situations, conflicts and butting heads..i am almost sure he sees just how sweet i was that he perceived in the beginning, and assumed wasnt there in the moments I armored up for battle against his selfishness and i realizing that he not so full of bad intent. at every juncture, no matter how many previous times past, in the next time there is still more that you dont know.  what do you lose when you give patience, room and benefit of the doubt, in honor to the other person? you might be laying the table for your own feast by doing that....being good to the other person

make sense of this jabberwock of writing if you can