So, There It Is...

I regularly debate the level of vulnerability I'm willing to express on this blog.  I have always been a relatively genuine being.  I crave honesty in my experiences and relationships.  But, have also been made keenly aware of the danger which lies there-in.

So, though I have many reservations on doing so, I've decided to let you into my very fragile center for just a minute.  Please be gentle with me.

As some of you have noticed, I have recently changed my name on Facebook.  I am now listed by my first and my middle names.  I did not make this change in an attempt to be novel.  It is, as some have guessed, a reflection of my current marital status.  No last name to post for now.  It just felt more honest to be known by the only names which are truly just my own, Cherie Marcel.  Given to me by my mother, who was herself alone at my birth.  Fitting.  Accurate.

Dan and I are not failures.  We are good people with good hearts.  We care deeply for each other and the three children we have raised together.  We are not fighting and there is no side to be taken.  No enemies.  Just two flawed beings doing our best to navigate this life.  This decision may not fit into desirable social norms, but it does appear to be the best one for us.  We are accepting this reality with compassion for each other and an unbelievable love for our children.

Though this is not what I ever imagined or hoped for, for our children to experience, it is my desire that they will be able to unearth whatever treasures there are to be found in this.  If nothing more, that they will choose, in their lives,  to be honest and true to themselves and those affected by them.

This is the raw.  Broken; facing judgements, opinions and interjections from friends and family; painful decisions; reflections; NOISE..... quiet.

Further details are not necessary.  This is where it stands.  What it is.

On with life.

Rain

I am sitting in my space.  Peter Gabriel is playing on You Tube - Red Rain.  I'm watching the rain as it falls and washes the many cars in the lot behind my building.  Just a soft and steady shower for now, but thunder storms are a good possibility.

I have a love/hate relationship with thunder storms.  They still frighten me.  The sudden crashes and deep rumbles seem to vibrate my very core and ignite in me a sense of impending doom.  I guess this is true of any deep rumbling.  It rushes back that sensation of panic which I felt in the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake.  Angels bowling.  That was my father's explanation for thunder.  A whimsical thought for such a dreadful feeling.

But rain...







Rain comforts and inspires me.  It draws scent and color out of every element within its reach.  It warms the air just enough to entice me out into it.  Breath it in.  The sky shifts and swirls, contrasting the ominous with silver streaks.  And then, randomly, it opens up in brilliant displays as if the clouds could not tame their own divinity.  And then, at intermission, drops cling to bony branches and glimmer.  Fleeting diamonds.

Rain gives these four walls a purpose.  Protect me.  Keep me warm.  Preserve my treasures.   It decorates my windows and entertains.  It seems to make music flow deeper and truer.  It pulls poetry from me and gives me permission to expose my insides.  My very basic, raw, human core.