I'm Pam Newman.
I am awesome every day & you are too.
Follow my butt on Twitter!
I'm a writer of aricles, poems & songs. Here's some cool stuff I wrote.
This morning, I woke up casually as I am wont to do every Sunday… and as I would like to do every single day of my life. I woke up next to my love who was just as cuddly and sweet as always.
He asked me how I was feeling, and I asked him the same. He replied, “Hungry,” and eventually we discussed what our breakfast options were. There wasn’t any bacon, so it came down to pancakes. He said he’d make them special, and I squealed, “Ooh fancy,” and curled deeper under the blankets as he got up.
He put on some comfy sunday-morning attire and I remained under the blankets. I texted a few friends to tell them how much I loved them and that we needed to make plans. I read some pages out of a self-empowerment book that my therapist loaned me.
Then I got cozy into the pillow on his side of the bed. I put my face into it, taking deep breaths and smelling him. I wiggled around in the blankets and made myself so comfortable that I considered going back to sleep, but instead I thought to myself.
I’ve been thinking about death a lot lately. Not in like a murderous or self-harm kind of way, but in an “It’s inevitable. I do not seek death, but I do not fear her,” kind of way. Maybe that’s a little morbid, but that’s just how I roll. I figure I’ve got like 50 or 60 years in me. That’s a long time.
Then I got to thinking— he’s only like 8 years older than I am. He’s probably got a good 50 or 60 years in him too. I put some consideration into what he does that annoys me… not much really. My brain trailed down a road where I thought about how selfish I can be, and that I’ve just gotten accustomed to doing everything my way and always getting my way, and that I truly want to compromise for him.
Because to paraphrase the wisdom of Maybeline and Alicia Keys, “because he’s worth it.”
I thought mostly of how much I enjoy being with him. I thought of how proud I am to say that I’m with him. I thought of how amazed I am that he’s a real person and loves me the way I want to be loved, and that I can love him the way I want to love someone and he likes it!
Then I terrified my inner commitment issues.
I thought to myself:
"I don’t wanna ever break up with him."
That’s not a thought I’ve ever had before. I’ve considered marrying people before. I’ve thought about “What would it be like to be with this person for the rest of my life?” But never have I outright thought, “I am opposed to the idea of ever breaking up with this person.”
I’m trying to rectify that with myself, and I’m sort of afraid of that thought, but I’m also finding comfort there. I haven’t said it out loud, and most certainly haven’t said it to him, which is silly… but I’m still figuring it out in my head.
We’ve been friends for a couple years, sorta dated for a while over that period of time and have been seriously dating for about 4 months.
FEELINGS, y’all. I have them.
But they feel good at the core. They’re only scary because they’re new.
Also? The pancakes were delicious.
I am very particular about how much milk is in my bowl of cereal.
I don’t really like milk all that much. Let’s be honest. Milk is really only a vehicle for cereal, oreo cookies and milkshakes.
Anyway, because of this, I don’t really like other people pouring milk into my cereal for me. I’m the kind of girl that always does about 2/3rds cereal and 1/3rd milk. Adding more milk is just begging for the milk to be wasted, and for me to be annoyed. Putting less cereal in the bowl is just an opportunity to piss me off in epic degrees.
Because of how seriously I take this, I don’t allow other people to prepare my bowl of cereal for me.
Actually like about 10 minutes ago.
I’m sitting on the bed, writing some creative stuff… I hear something happening in the kitchen. It sounded like the box of Honey Nut Cheerios Medley Crunch being opened. And then the distinct jingle of cereal falling into a ceramic bowl. The refrigerator opened, and in my mind’s eye I saw him. He was removing the omega-3 organic milk…
I shuddered, because my boyfriend, Mikal, is not really the cereal type.
Was he preparing a bowl of cereal for me?
This innocent and considerate gesture… it could be devastating if it went wrong!
How would I be able to have a constructive conversation after his handing me the bowl of cereal considering that I’m a card-carrying member of the Cereal Milk Police?
What if the milk ratio was all wrong?
What if I forever held a grudge because the milk-to-cereal ratio was disproportionate? What if I loved him less as a result? How could I possibly look him in the eye and let him see my soul if he was an over-pourer?
And more immediately: What the hell was I going to do with all that leftover Honey Nut Cheerios Medley Crunch flavored milk???
I tried to focus on my writing, and Mikal strolled into the room, holding a bowl of cereal with a spoon in it.
I smiled gently and tell him how sweet he is, as I willingly (Yet internally hesitantly) lifted the bowl from his hands. He smiled lovingly at me and walked away.
Oh dear god, I love him so much.
I’m afraid to look into this bowl of Cheerios.
I take a slow, deep breath.
I peer into the bowl.
I timidly move the spoon around.
I am overjoyed!
THE MILK TO CEREAL RATIO IS ABSOLUTELY PERFECT! The sun poked through the clouds, I get messages on my phone saying I beat superior freinds in Ruzzle and birds outside started enthusiastically singing Disney songs!
And here, I offer no fictionalization or exaggeration: I audibly gasped out loud and giggled.
From the other room a question is asked, “What?”
And I responded, “I just had an emotional moment.”
Mikal walks back into the bedroom to find me grinning ear-to-ear.
"I’m really picky about cereal and milk, and you poured me the exact right amount of milk. I swooned!"
He very matter of factly stated, “You said you really liked this cereal, so I figured you’d want more cereal than milk.”
I respond, “I love you so much.”
But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love.
You know, a few years ago I would be a puddle of mush right now.
I’ve experienced some really emotionally triggering/traumatic shit in the past 24 hours.
My usual reaction to such a thing is to eat as many feelings as possible, hide in a room and nest inside a bunch of pillows and blankets until there’s some important reason for me to leave. Possibly I am nesting with candy, beer and chips all within arm’s reach.
But not today.
And it’s not because I’m on some self-help kick where I’m extra motivated, and I’m inclined to do everything differently on my own.
It’s actually even better than that.
I’m surrounded by human beings who give a shit about me and are supportive in the ways that I actually need them to be supportive. It’s one thing for people to say that they care about me and then try to show that they care about me through actions THEY think make sense.
That’s not helpful. If what I need is a hug and to hear that it’s going to be alright I most certainly don’t need to hear that I need to get my fucking shit together and stop crying.
I’m lucky enough to work at a place that let me do work from home today, and in being able to do that I was also able to do some mega-self care. I napped and went to talk to my brain doctor. I treated myself to one of my favorite lunches
(it was a build-your-own grilled cheese sandwich: Wheat, brie, cheddar, bacon, spring mix, tomatoes and BACON topped with some blueberry compote with a motherfucking cup of creamy dill tomato soup! I SAID GOD DAMN!)
But while these things were going on, things I needed to do, and had to encourage myself to get up off of a comfortable couch and away from the internet in order to do, I was being bombarded with love.
My co-workers emailed me filling my gmail box with love and compassion, letting me know that they care about not only my performance and how well I can do my job, but they care about me emotionally. They give a shit that I need time to heal a little bit after having 2 panic attacks in one day, and that I also still want to get some shit done, because I love my job. I really, truly wish for everyone to have something similar like that in their workplace. That may be a part of my purpose. I did say I was going to write about my purpose. I guess I’ll get into that later on today.
But anyway, on to the outpours of love in my general direction…
My awesome and spectacular boyfriend checked in on me regularly, reminding me that I’m loved and people give a damn about me.
My good friend Emma checked in on me and we’ll be hanging out, potentially eating snacks together.
My good friend Sarah, who is also my emotional accountability partner, not only checked in on me, but suggested we take a walk. And y’all. That was such an empowering walk. It kind of changed my entire outlook. There was sunshine and a beautiful park, and some really gut-wrenchingly honest conversation about where we both are. It was perfect.
I even feel like we’ll be doing that walk thing on the regular.
My internet cousins ALWAYS outwardly express their love for me, and know that I am unabashedly supportive of them and the things that will make their lives right. They’re some of my best friends ever and my favorite humans that exist on this earth.
And these simple acts of compassion and love are really helping me be a functional human. It’s super important to me to connect to other people because I am an extrovert, but I also need a little bit of downtime to collect my thoughts, and I was able to do all of those things today.
I’m so deeply grateful for these wonderful people, and also for the strength that I’ve been able to show in selecting good people to share my soft underbelly with. I know that the people I’m close to now would never poke me there with a sharp stick, but they’ll be standing there with band-aids if I scratch it on a rock as I walk along.
I feel like over the years I have written a lot on this blog about how much I love love.
I love the act of displaying love. I love other people’s love. I love to love humanity. I love my friends. I love witnessing love happen— love between lovers, love between a mother and her child, love between a pet owner and an animal.
There’s just something incredibly beautiful about the passion that happens between creatures in love. I think plants experience some form of love.
I even have a tattoo on the left side of my ribcage that says:
Everything in life is done because of LOVE or the lack there of.
Of course, I love falling in love. I love discovering a new food or location or experience I can love. I love falling in love with my work, falling in love with new friends and more than anything… I absolutely love falling in romantic love.
It’s like a fulfillment of the ultimate craving. Discovering something new in someone you knew was there, but was just a faint glimmer. Finding why the glimmer brought you towards them in the first place and being able to hold it in the light and being awestruck by it’s beauty. Sharing parts of yourself you may have forgotten about, or perhaps never even knew were there in a fair trade exchange of emotions and ideas.
Being able to say and hear out loud an expression of passion, appreciation; a form of unconditional positive regard and compassion… I love love, y’all.
I’m sun-bathing and moon-bathing in it. I’m basking in it and eating it, massaging it into my pores and spraying it on my neck and chest before I walk out into the world. I sweeten my coffee with it, clean my glasses with it so I can see the world better with it than I could without it.
I love love, and I’m in it.
Whitney Houston - The Greatest Love of All
In this difficult time we call life, let’s take a moment and think about the lyrics to this song. It’s saying that all of us humans, particularly children, need to be able to love ourselves.
That’s such a powerful message, especially in a ballad. This is one of the most powerful love ballads ever written, and the object of affection is oneself. It’s free of any pretension, irony or subversive messages. It’s just saying, love yourself.
And if you can do that, you can do anything.
This song is dedicated to you.
The way the moon so loved the earth that she promised to bring light to it as it turns it’s face away once a day, as sometimes the sun’s radiance is just too strong to bear.
The way the toughest earth will shift aside as sprouts reach for their first glimpse of light.
The way the air slips sensually and gracefully over the skin and fur and bark of everything it passes by, gently caressing us all.
The way the ocean and sky are always trying to kiss at the horizon.
The way birds long for the sky, the way fish long for the sea, the way night aches to bring the day, the way my lungs beg for air, my stomach demands food.
Okay, I’m seriously in the process of doing 8 things right now.
Anyway, I was a little hasty when I said my presently dramatic and romantic outlook/life is a series of Oscar Wilde quotes, earlier.
It’s more like a series of James Joyce quotes, Regina Spektor songs, Marina and the Diamonds videos and 1940’s jazz standards.
I feel like a surrealist painting demonstrating the unrequited love between the individual and her global surroundings using vibrant, autumn colors.
I love the world, yet it refuses to love itself, or to return the favor to my heart.
I said it was dramatic right?
You. Reading this right now. I want to love you.
And make you read Joyce quotes.
“Irresponsibility is part of the pleasure of all art; it is the part the schools cannot recognize. ” - Joyce
~ Community ~
What is community?
Community feels like support, love and communication with people who share a real or imagined space. A neighborhood. A workplace. A school. The internet.
Community is the tape and bubblegum that supports an otherwise shaky structure. Within a community we learn to love what is contained in bodies with different shapes. Within a truly loving community, how you pee, who you love, if you love and what you look like are irrelevant.
What matters is that you matter.
What matters is that relationships matter.
What matters is that love matters.
We all want to be loved, and that is why humans create communities.
"Everything in life is done because of love or the lack there of."
Communities are love on a meta scale.
I’m listening to some musical artists that ex lovers turned me on to.
I’m also listening to some songs that I listened to after breakups. It’s funny how four or five notes can remind you of a mindset, place, scent and feel of being somewhere. Or… just the feeling of being with someone.
It’s interesting to listen to that music or sing along with it and relive the feelings that those people inspired in me. Longing, unrequited feelings. There are some of these tunes that remind me of exactly what love feels like.
This is a nice facsimile for the time being.