life – Page 6 – Britt Skrabanek

Sitting Across From You

Sitting across from you last night healed me like nothing else.

I know that’s what we normally do on Friday nights. We listen to music, talk for hours, and laugh until it hurts. We drink and dance and live, because it’s the weekend.

But, last night was even more perfect than usual.

One week I found out about my mom. The next week I flew on a plane, far away from you to be closer to her. Last week I came back to work in a daze and handled each chaotic day as best as I could.

The last few weeks have been hard. Harder because I haven’t seen you the way I’m used to.

Yesterday when you got home I said that all I wanted to do was sit across from you. To look at you. To come back home to you.

And, so I did (along with this lap cat of ours).

Damn, it was all so lovely.

The way your smile touches my insides. The way your voice soothes my mind. The way your thoughts speak to mine.

Sitting across from you was all that I needed. Thank you.

Sometimes writers think of the perfect dialogue for that intense moment. Sometimes we scribble it down quickly and leave it lying around. Sometimes our spouse picks up the post-it and wonders where it all went wrong.

Just a little writing funny to share with you guys. I’ve been pretty aloof lately, a crazed woman with questionable hair holed up in the editing cave.

Mr. H is a trooper, watching me cautiously from afar.

Each day I’m drowning in stacks of paper and piles of cats, rubbing red pen off my hands, laughing at ridiculous typos, talking to myself…WAY too much, and trying to fight off bursting into tears for no reason at all.

Oh yeah…what the heck is with the English language?

I stared at the word “first” for a good fifteen minutes one day last week. I even checked merriam-webster.com. I’m still suspicious, but I guess I’ll go with it.

Our apartment is dirty, and littered with maniacal post-its. But, I’m almost ready to hand off this book of mine to another set of eyes.

Don’t worry. We will survive, as will the cats.

Writing. It’s glamorous.

Any psycho writer stories you’d like to share below? Go for it! I could use the moral support right now.

Intention to love in the new year

Here we are again. That time when we reflect on all that has happened and wonder what comes next.

For many of us, myself included, the coming of the new year carries some anxiety along with it. Did I live 2013 to its fullest? Will life be less awesome, as awesome, or more awesome in 2014?

The thing is, as long as we love we are living life to its fullest and life will be awesome. The rest of it – goals, money, things – they are radically insignificant.

Have dreams and do your best to soar, but don’t forget what’s right here on the ground. The family you don’t get to see enough, the spouse you are lucky to wake up next to, the friends you can share a ridiculous laugh or a magnificent cry with.

In 2014, I have a few bullet points I’d like to hit.

Publish my third book.
Get another stamp on my passport.
Continue a healthy life, including more meditation and Yoga.
Keep my closet clean.
Stop trying to do everything at once.

None of these are my resolutions. They are simply things I will work on throughout the year. Some will come easily, some will take a lot of work, and nobody will offer me a big, chintzy award for doing any of them.

Rather than a smattering of resolutions this year, I’d like to make a sankalpa instead.

A whaty-what?

Sankalpa is a Sanskrit word meaning “will, purpose, or determination”. While resolutions often channel a reprimanding energy toward ourselves – drink less, exercise more, (you get my drift) – a sankalpa is a positive intention.

When I look at my bullet points up there, I see that they are not particularly self-loathing, but I know I’ve made some tough love resolutions in the past. And, I’m sure many of you out there are struggling with the same right now.

So, I say…to hell with the tough love!

Let’s set a sankalpa together to love more. Your family, your spouse, your friends, and don’t forget yourself while you’re at it.

If we love more the rest of it becomes a little easier, the unattainable becomes attainable.

I always wonder what the world would be like if we all had the same intention, to focus more on love. I don’t know. It could be very awesome.

I would like to ask all of you to join me in this sankalpa to bring in the new year.

Chime in with some love in the comment section below. It can be anything you want, in any language you want: a famous quote, your unfamous quote, a list of people you love, a way that you can show your love more.

Thank you all for your beautiful support in 2013. You’re all lovely. Happy New Year.

The Urge to Dance

Once upon a time I called myself a dancer. I danced my whole life until the end of last year when quite suddenly…I stopped.

No more teaching, no more leotards, no more performances. Just like that.

Such a monumental transition in my life was very hard for me to swallow, and most of 2013 was spent figuring out who I was beyond the dancer. When you’ve been doing something for over twenty years, it has a way of becoming a part of you.

I wrote I Found Some Change, which some of you may remember, when it all happened.

Recently Mr. H was out of town and I had this crazy urge to dance.

It was dark, the cats were asleep, and uncharacteristically I felt lonely. So I threw on jeans and a tank top, some music, and filmed this in one shot.

It wasn’t about choreography or perfection, it was simply about moving.

Mr. H threw in some nifty video effects after he saw it. So even though we were apart when it started, we came together to create something in the end.

The video is silent, due to music rights mumbo jumbo that I didn’t want to mess with on YouTube. But I realized that the silence itself was beautiful, because when I move everything becomes still and quiet. The music, even the sound of my own breath.

This project taught me that entirely letting go of something isn’t always the right thing to do. The dancer is still inside and I’m OK with it being right there.

Me and My Shadow

Hey, Shadow.

Hey, Britt. What’s going on with you?

Eh, nothing. Ok, everything.

Emotional tug-of-war time again?

Yes, Shadow.

Why the struggle?

You ask a lot of questions, Shadow.

Hey, you haven’t spoken to me in a while. Got the feeling you wanted me to help you out.

No, you’re right. Sorry, sometimes you just get too close and it bothers me.

Britt, I’m your shadow.

Oh, right. Well, for a while now – the past four months or so – I’ve been trying to run away from myself. From you, too.

Ah geez, not that again. Britt, you know you can’t do that.

I know. But, sometimes it seems like being somewhere else – a new place, a new life – will be what I need. The happiness will be right there waiting for me.

That’s because you’re a gypsy. The gypsy yearns to roam because she fears that settling isn’t living. But there’s something pretty effing beautiful about rooting, Britt.

I’ve been thinking about that.

You’re you, dragging my shadowy ass behind you. No matter where you are, no matter what you do. We’re right there, through thick and thin.

That’s why I’ve decided to stay this time.

Really? No escapism for Britt Skrabanek?

Shadow, don’t be absurd. I’ll always have fiction.

Naturally. But otherwise, you’re gonna keep on keepin’ on?

Yeah.

I’m proud of you. Shocked as hell, but proud.

Thanks, Shadow. I’ve tried on a lot of different lives, traipsed across these United States searching for myself – for a place to fit in, for a place to call home.

Ha! You…fit in somewhere?

Delusional, I know.

Sounds like you don’t give a shit about that anymore.

I don’t. Because I’m kind of serene. Right here in this tiny city of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, U.S.A. I know where the potholes are in the streets, I have a favorite tree, and when the seasons change I feel alive.

You sure that’s grand enough for you, Britt?

Shadow, I’ve lived in grander cities before. Turns out, I’m not a grandiose kind of girl.

So, you’re cool right here?

Yes. Right here with my day job in my colorless cubicle. Right here teaching Yoga and seeing peace for the first time. Right here writing with all of my soul, exposing my vulnerability and being OK with that.

I’m happy for you, Britt. You’re home.

I like the way that sounds…I’m home.

Good, I was tired of chasing your crazy ass.

Damn, Shadow. Tell me how you really feel.

You know I don’t hold back with you.

You’re alright, Shadow. You’re alright.

So are you, Britt.

Hey, Shadow?

Yes, Britt?

Thanks for listening.

Any time. I’m always here when you need me.