Just Breathe...

I occasionally fall into a trap. The comparison trap. I'm on track toward a goal...any goal...and someone I'm connected to is on the same track. Maybe steps beyond me or steps behind. Maybe we vacillate. At times I feel like a coach and other times I feel like a slacker. Ouch. Sometimes I feel like a failure and the self recrimination becomes a demon that haunts my every decision. Comparison is so counterproductive. Even when I'm in the steps beyond camp, I struggle with feelings of superiority...knowing on a gut level that "sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind...the race is long, and in the end it's only with yourself" (Mary Schmich, Chicago Tribune, 1997) and that superiority merely causes breaks in connection which is the exact opposite of how I want to live this life.

So I regroup. Right now, in one goal, I am behind where I wish I was. I am beyond where I thought I would be. In comparison to those on my same journey, I struggle with judging their methods and goals. Judging...along with superiority become comparison's evil henchmen.

Here's where I am today. I woke up and it was foggy. ~sigh~ I love fog. I put on appropriate clothing and walked a couple of miles in the fog. Soaking it in, being fully present and insulated. Being held gently by one of the earth's amazing water tricks. I met my own methods and goals in that naturally meditative space. My goals don't tend to have numbers or letters or any measurable outcome. My goals are 100% totally and completely about feeling.

Succulent, Awed, Magical, Magnetic, Deeply Connected. Every day in every way.

Fitness? Succulent in my clothes, deeply connected to my body...not a body I happen to have but one I inhabit in a deeply connected feeling way. That requires hydration, restful sleep, meditation, pure nourishment and movement...pushing, pulling, lifting, running, dancing, skipping, walking. It requires I push my body in ways that allow me to feel it not only as I'm doing it but days after. I'm not about a number on a scale, a number on a tag or inches on a tape. I'm about being in this body passionately.

My career? Awed by my fellow humans. Magical to those who come to me for perspective and healing. Magnetic to those who crave my natural gifts. Deeply connected to a commitment to my fellow beings in all of their forms.

My world? Awed. Aware of my magical deep connection to all of our planet and mother nature's natural gifts.

My people? All of it. Succulent, I want to nourish them. Awed...I want to be soulfully nourished BY them. Magical...I want to practice being present in ways that transcend the obvious reality. Magnetic...I want to only be in the presence of those with whom the attraction is mutual and learn to let the others find their own other pole. Deeply connected...I want to wind my roots around and share those vital nutrients with others, becoming stronger naturally through this process...no more superficiality or avoidance.

My goals are mine. They are not superior or inferior to any other person's. There is no universal yardstick and I am truly never ahead or behind any other person. The race I am in with myself is not only long, it is infinite. The only possible measurement is how committed I remained on any given day to staying true to those feelings.

Today has infinite possibilities and I am grateful to the fog for the space to remember these things.

Remembrance Day

***This post was written last year, saved as a draft and forgotten. Two days ago, the scene was eerily repeated almost to the smallest detail. Same checker, elderly man ahead of me in line with is cap identifying him as a Korean war veteran. The difference in the situation this year is that last year's encounter had prepared me to be grateful and expressive. I stood there a person changed by a year of living, learning and listening. ***


Last night, two hours and thirty minutes into overtime at the end of one of my most emotionally draining workdays in a long time, I had one work-related stop to make before I could settle into my evening at home.

I walked into the most inconveniently located market in existence with nothing but thoughts of fuzzy socks,pajamas, my couch, hot tea and the next episode of Life Unexpected that were all waiting at the end of this errand. I approached the check stand with only one person in front of me, a nondescript man of advanced years. I found myself twisting the tie on my dress...a sure sign that I'm impatient and something is about to REALLY get on my nerves.

The checker was Middle Eastern man with a heavy accent that made his tongue trip and tangle over his words. The customer he was speaking to was hard of hearing. They were having trouble communicating and the customer was reaching the end of his patience...worse than me and my twisting. The checker slowed down, but he slowed his actions as well as his words and that did not sit well with the impatience brewing in his line. Aeons later, he was finally making change and handed it to the man in front of me in line. When he placed the last coin in the older man's hand, he used both of his hands to clasp the man's hand in his. He nodded his head toward the older man's hat and said, very very slowly and obviously as clearly as he possibly could, "I will probably not see you tomorrow so I would like to say thank you today for everything you have done to ensure this is a country of freedom and promise and hope." He was smiling and glossy-eyed and held the man's hand for just a beat longer than he spoke.

I couldn't help my curiosity and am pretty ashamed that I didn't have a clue why he was talking about "tomorrow." When the other customer turned to me and I saw his VFW hat with pins and patches I recognized but don't understand, I was doubly ashamed. The checker obviously DID understand...and dismantled every misconception I had up until that moment one feeling, one realization, one bit of awe at a time. He might be Middle Eastern and trip over our language, but he was very obviously twice the American I could ever hope to be.

I celebrate in my heart today every altruistic act of those serving our military, today and yesterday...to protect and ensure the right to freedom, promise and hope for a country full of people who might or might not understand or appreciate...might even protest what they are doing. These men and women are of the utmost integrity...doing what they believe is right despite the actions or beliefs of others...despite the ignorance of a tired, impatient, oblivious girl in a small town at an inconveniently located market needing to be reminded of their sacrifice by a Middle Eastern man who knew better than to take it for granted.

Just Because...

Sometimes I sit here alone, feeling alone...feeling isolated and sad and sure that I'm the only person feeling this way while everyone I know is somewhere laughing...loving...living out loud. Sometimes. Not often. But lately. Yes, lately.

Then the switch is hit and the feelings pass. It never fails that when I tentatively step into the social circles again, I am blasted with reminders of how connected we all are. Our battles aren't so different. Our perceptions aren't so different. Our needs are so very much NOT different.

And today, this:

What if our religion was each other
If our practice was our life
If our prayer, our words
What if the temple was the Earth
If forests were our church
If holy water - the rivers, lakes and ocean
What if meditation was our relationships
If the teacher was Life
If the wisdom was self knowledge
If love was the centre of our being?

- Ganga White

AMEN!

The reverse side of the reverse side

I was sitting here...equal parts confused, angry, righteous, buggered and bereft. This recipe bakes up a heaping dish of irritability when given enough time to stew.

This irritability had built up and was now distracting me beyond all measure. The noise. The fuzzy feeling on my teeth. My cold feet. Something sticky under my forearm on the surface of my desk.

I literally threw a temper tantrum...stomped into the kitchen, slammed through the cupboard until I found the windex and a rag. I squirted and wiped the surface of my desk. There. Movement...however small...can alleviate the irritability. Can. Unless the sticky~ness remains. It did. Then I realized it was tape. Who the FUCK stuck tape to the surface of my desk...and WHY??? Of all the...

Irritability factor through the roof.

Then I peeled the tape back. And it went from invisible to slap me in the face visible.



Perspective check. The noise? Kids playing outside. The fuzz on my teeth? Peanut Brittle instead of dinner. The cold feet? A lovely Spring~ish day perfect for open windows and bare feet. The sticky desktop? A reminder of love from the one place I never expected it to come from today and needed the most.

Thank you, perspective...you're always there...just waiting for me to notice you.

Gotye said it best...

it wasn't because you became unattractive.
it wasn't because you were mean when it wasn't necessary.
it wasn't because you didn't pay enough attention.
it wasn't because we never really had a song.
it wasn't because of her or her or her or her.
it wasn't because of the way you drove or took too big of bites.
it wasn't because all of your friends were jackasses.
it wasn't because you were an ass when you drank.
it wasn't because you were alternately standoffish and needy.
it wasn't your mommy or daddy or baby momma issues.
it wasn't where you lived or what you did for a living.

it was how I felt about me for having someone like you in my life.
it was how I disappeared so that you could grow larger than life.
it was how celebratory I felt when your influence was gone.

and today it was how peaceful it felt to answer "just somebody that I used to know."

There ARE beauty~full things every day...

it just took me almost 4 months to remember to see them. That's approximately 120 days of beauty~less~ness.

I locked this personal, sacred space of mine down as a fear reaction. Four months ago I lost my way. I knew it. I didn't like it. But fixing it meant trying to negotiate my way along an unfamiliar, overgrown path on a moonless night. With snakes. The thing that I forgot is: I am not afraid of snakes. I'm not afraid of being alone. I'm not afraid of moonless nights. I forgot that I'm not afraid, period.

I'm brave. Today I remembered that. It took time and it took patient angels. The result is this. Today I open my heart and I invite you in. I open my personal, sacred space and ask only this: Stay, curl up with me and my words and lets weave something amazing together in this bit of space and time. Have positive intentions. If you feel so inclined, let me know you stopped by. Challenge me if you disagree. Gently move on if this space and your energy are not a match. Get to know me. Smile a secret smile if you already do. Trust me. Keep smiling if that already applies. Smile some more, just for the hell of it.

This is me being brave, and I thank you for reading. For being a patient angel. For smiling.

One beauty~full thing for each of the past four months:

♥ A moment so staggering that it necessitated the spinning of a cocoon...but a cocoon means that some other season sees a butterfly. Wings, baby. Wings.

♥ A move, a moving out and moving on....my baby girl off to college and on to the next stage of her amazing adventure.

♥ A long holiday weekend off work and surrounded by love...followed by a long holiday from worry in the most important area of my life...and all the positive changes that came along with that.

♥ A single cold and wet day perfect for breaking out the tall boots and a long scarf. An umbrella. The heater. Down comforters. One day was enough...for now.

Difficulties are not obstacles on the spiritual path, they ARE the spiritual path! ~Ezra Bayda

I'm strong. I'm capable. I can roll with the punches. I can hold my own and I am not afraid of necessary confrontation or even conflict. If it's in the name of justice, I can dig my teeth in and surprise even me sometimes.

What I have no defense against is a pitch in the dirt. I don't even know where to start or why to even start. I function on the belief that all anyone has to do is maintain their integrity and in the long run truth always prevails.

In my world the true superheroes are the people who lead by example. Regular, normal, everyday people who maintain who they are despite the actions of others or any environment they find themselves in.

I'm trying...but the plain truth is that in the absence of defense against a pitch in the dirt, the masses will listen to anyone who steps up to the podium.

I think I need to swing...and step up.

Sowing the seeds of love...

It's so quiet in here. This space where I can come and express myself any way that I see fit is so very precious to me and for a couple of weeks now I have sat here with fingers poised above the keys for silent and still moments upon moments before giving up and signing out...silent still.

Tonight I decided to talk about being silent if I couldn't come up with anything else to say. So there goes.

But I do have something to say. Something pretty big. Something radical and brazen.

I like myself. Yeah, I said it. I actually LOVE me.

Part of my silence coincided with one of my lovelies putting in plain terms her concerns about my character. I gave myself permission to sit with her words for some time to turn them over, check them out, try them on and then decide what to do with them. All of that is done and with a sigh, smile and shout from the bottom of my soul, I'd like to say that I LIKE ME!

Oh, I'm so very far from perfect and so very flawed and floundering. I have not figured out all the quirks and twists and turns of this life and how relationships of any/all kinds become successes. I haven't discovered the secret of how to behave with positive intention 100% of the time. I'm lucky if I hit 50% with consistency but on occasion I've hit 75%. I have given myself permission to be mistaken, to be flat out wrong and to fall flat on my face if the lesson at hand calls for it. I have hurt people and I have hurt myself and I surely hurt myself when I hurt other people. I do, however, strive to always do my best.

What I'm not is intentionally careless with other people's hearts. I'm not purposefully reckless and I'm not malicious. I don't hold grudges and I don't treat people how they have earned being treated, I treat people with heartfelt spontaneous love and care. I don't read into other people's behavior looking for ulterior motives or some far off future issue that might arise. I don't assume that behavior that is "outside the box" is wrong...I allow that it might be right for the situation at hand and only the behaviorer knows for sure if they are doing the best they can at the moment.

I smile at people a lot, even when they are displeased with me. I smile because I care. I smile because they care. I smile because even a rough time is time together with opportunity to learn and grow. I smile because even when people change or go away or even stick around but the relationship ends, those moments of connection still existed and I know the level of pure heart love I poured into those moments as often as I possibly could...and I ask no more of myself than that.

I had a birthday during my silence here. It was amazing, full of new friends and old friends, soul friends and family disguised as friends. There was travel and adventure and awakening and accomplishment. There was dungeon sushi and Louisiana style crawfish boil. There were hikes and streetcars and outdoor markets and even a pride festival. There was a sauna with vodka. There was a brewery sampler and a burger that I'm still dreaming about. But each and every one of those things was made enormously more special because of the love that was woven through and around each one.

Love conquers all...even my own self-doubt. That's what I really wanted to say tonight...that I love me and I hope if you're here in my blog...here in my life, you've found a way to love me too...imperfections and all. In return for your love, I promise with all of my heart that I will continue to strive to always do my best...for me, for you, by me and by you.

Over & out.

Note to Self

Deep breathe. In to the count of five, out to the count of ten.

Cry. Hard. Long. Sob and wail. Let it out.

Sleep.

Drink many steaming hot mugs of Chamomile tea...maybe with some fresh mint if possible.

Exercise. Sweat and move.

Wait.

Let the edges soften and fade out of focus.

Trust.

Once the anxiety passes, there will be space. Clear space where all of the answers seem like they were just waiting behind a hazy curtain for you to discover that they where there all along.

When the answers are clear, follow your instincts. Dismiss the fear of being unpopular or ineffective, too early or too late, imperfect or hypocritical.

Dismiss fear.

Let your instincts lead.

And remember...

Don't fight the fights that you can win, fight the fights that NEED FIGHTING.

Now, Tara...go get 'em, girl...and don't stop for anything other than balance, respect and fundamental goodness. It's out there. Really. Trust.

I hate cake. Rainbows are an illusion. I am not crazy.

This is an excerpt from an email I wrote today. I think it adequately defines why I am still single. And the chorus says "Amen."

Me? Insecure? Sure. Observant? Yes. Analytical? Absolutely. But as for the insecure part...we all are to some degree. Even you are. You have reasons to be and so do I. Do I think you owe it to me to fix my insecurities? Nope. But I sure do think you owe it to me to be honest about who you are. I won't like you unless you do...and one thing I know for sure For Sure FOR SURE is that when my instincts are telling me something, I will wreck everything to honor them and not once in my entire life have they ever Ever EVER been wrong. The fucked up part is that by the time caution is thrown to the wind and someone is ready to show me who they really are, they have usually accused me of being insecure or crazy often enough that I stop giving a flying shit about knowing who they are. My instincts are not wrong. Ever.

and the line to date me starts on the left.

11~24~2007

Reposting, recycling, remembering...

Sometimes I meet people and literally can't wait to quit their company and other times people come along and we just meld into each other's lives smoothly, seamlessly. It's near impossible to put it into words...I tried and came up with this...

It's as if there are people-shaped holes in my life. Some people slip right into the hole that is shaped exactly like them. It's effortless. It was waiting just for them. Others float around and maybe slip an arm or leg into the wrong hole and then one day settle into their right hole. Another might try and try and float away...only to return and realize that their hole was the next one that they would have tried the last time. Other times no matter how much time and effort you put into trying to find the hole or how many angles you try each one in, there comes a time to realize that there simply is no hole shaped like that person. It might be worth a try to make them their own hole but usually the reason they have no preexisting hole becomes apparent and it's okay for them to float away. There are even times when people leave their perfectly shaped holes in my life...but they leave them full of memories that endure.

Each person has extreme value, even the ones who go away.

But this is about the ones who don't. This is about the one who fit right into the hole whose outline confused me with that mass of curls. This is about the one that confused me with her teeny-ness. This is about the child-sized ones and the kids who recognize our soul-bond and skip into their holes. This is about the holes that filled this past couple of years as I pulled my walls down brick by brick so that people could wander in. This is about newness and togetherness and support and FAMILY in a way that doesn't require DNA.

This is about an 8 year-old knowing exactly what language to speak so that my heart would hear and a traveler willing risk traffic to share a cup of coffee. This is about a new unexpected connection at a precarious holiday celebration. This is a little about crying and a lot about who hears. This is about what happens when you decide that alone is okay but lonely is not. This is about who gravitates your direction when you make that decision. About who is there.

Welcome to your you-shaped hole in my life. Thank you for finding it. I love you.

In the time that has passed since writing this, that 8 year old has grown into a lovely young lady who just recently blew me away with her ability to continue to speak from her soul...even more eloquently now. There have been periods of drifting between an essential lovely in my life followed by a much needed reunion. A love has left and the him shaped hole appears to have been a mirage. You have arrived, and I fell in love with you in the first moment I met you. I'm so happy to see you settle in for forever.

There have been so many changes, constants and chaotic melees in the past 3ish years. I've installed floor lights between those people shaped holes...for dancing.

Kick off your shoes. Take my hand. Let's boogie.

Getting to where I'm going...

I've been driving...getting to where I'm going one mile, one city, one friend's couch at a time. Lucky to have the loves that I do who help me get my feet under me, back on the ground, facing the right direction and taking even the smallest of steps toward...well toward something, anything. Just moving...moving...moving.

I've been writing...getting to where I'm going one unsent email, unpublished blog, unmailed love letter and unintelligible rant at a time. Lucky to have all of these avenues to express myself...and to be able to write powerfully for me...more than for him or her or them. Writing because the words refuse to go unsaid even if they have to go unsent.

I've been crying...getting to where I'm going ten tears at a time...not single tears...they have been coming in droves lately. Lucky to be able to cry at home, at work, in your arms and in your face and sometimes even in hiding. Crying to cleanse, crying because it's broke and crying because life keeps handing me amazingness that sometimes stays but sometimes has to go. Crying because I can and I do and to hell with whether or not tears are called for.

I've been sleeping...getting to where I'm going one long night, one nap, one drool puddle and snore session at a time. Lucky to have a big fluffy cloud of a bed that feels like a hug. Sleeping to restore, repair, rejuvenate. Sleeping to escape and sleeping to have the lovely blessing of waking to a brand new chance at a lovely new day full of promise and passion. Sleeping next to you, alone or even with my babies curled up next to me.

I've been talking...getting to where I'm going with a million words...all precious, all pertinent and absolutely not all perfect. Lucky to have a voice, an ability to string words together in ways that paint pictures that are impossible to misunderstand...to have courage to speak them and to have ears willing to bend to them. Mostly lucky to have the ability to use my voice and be heard, understood and even sometimes forgiven when the dark and dangerous ones sneak past the guards.

I've been loving...getting to where I'm going one toughly tender tenacious heartbeat at a time. Lucky to have recipient hearts in my life waiting to time their beats with mine...some waiting openly, some waiting tentatively, others waiting avoidantly, many waiting ecstatically. Waiting...waiting...waiting with no pressure or agenda...just knowing that where they are is exactly perfect and where we are is simply serendipitous...that we belong to one another in an instant that may be past present or future but knowing that belonging only takes one heartbeat shared for two hearts to beat in time forever. Belonging is a beauty~full tattoo on your heart that you never regret getting...never ever.

I've been this and I've been that and life has handed me love and challenges and turmoil and at the end of it all great heaping mounds of personal triumph. I know who I am, what I'm made of and above all what my worth is.

The only unanswered question at this moment in time is...in all this "getting to where I'm going"...where exactly is it that I am going? Where are these drives, words, tears, zzz's, heartbeats and laughter taking me? When will I get there?

And the only answer I want is "wait and see."

Times infinity.

Please.

Possibility and Brilliance in twenty~eleven

As 2009 ended,

I labeled 2010 the year of Carpe Diem and Moxie.

I declare success.

In 2010, I…

fell for: TV’s Nancy Botwin, Dexter, Earl and Tara. The internet’s Claudia, Mccabe, Allison, Erin D. and Danielle. Touchable humans Nicole, Rachel B, Tj & tj, my wife’s husband, my minis over and over again, Kat and Z. Weetzie Bat and Witch Baby.

made: curry, chapatti bread, tom kha gai, sangria, a million heart shaped waffles, marinated portabella mushrooms on the grill, veggie drawer cleanout soup in the crock pot, an entire raw meal down to the flax crackers made in the dehydrator, a cake in the shape of Gossamer, fresh spring rolls, s’mores and first kiss martinis.

went to: an Italian Masque, Texas, Monterey, Elverta, Caribou, Berkeley, Six Flags, San Francisco, Wilbur Road, an Outlaws game, the Gallagher’s July Party, my baby momma's wedding, Miami, Cozumel, Grand Cayman, Jamaica and Seattle…finally…Seattle.

saw: Floater, Counting Crows, Augustana, Ma Muse, The Weepies, Dave Matthews Band, Tainted Love while dressed in full on 80’s duds and last but not least Tony Swanson in the living room…best show of all.

tried: special rice crispy treats, gardening (not for special baking), being off work and a caregiver for 30 whole days, 7 months of living vegan then vegetarian then pescatarian then pollo-vegetarian then semi-vegetarian then just fucking eating what I’m comfortable with and to hell with labels, quitting my job but was promoted instead, saving money then spent it all, being more like that guy but decided I like me just fine.

heralded: chickens in a coop, daffodils, sailboatlessness, the 16th as the first of the month and my bday as the beginning of a new year, the rental dog, Devin’s driving permit, energy efficient windows on the house, a great big fridge, Netflix live streaming and babygirl’s senior year of high school.

decided to: change up the rules, push the boundaries, define my integrity, stop at one kiss, give give give and give some more, smile and believe in possibilities.

2009 was brutal and made turning inward so very tempting…to be safe and to avoid the hurt that comes with taking chances. 2010 needed to be all about taking chances…and it was. 2010 was cut the cords to the safety net, pull down the walls, live out loud and trust that the hurt will be worth the eventual loveliness. And it was. Moxie and Carpe Diem, balls-to-the-wall laughter, adventure and smiles that went on for days on end. It was about chances…some that paid off and some that fell flat with a resounding thud that echoed and seriously made me giggle. Failure was redefined in 2010.

2011, your name is Possibility and your middle name is Brilliance. You are going to be all about newness and solutions to any possible obstacle…real or imaginary. You will embody creativity and love and doing and being present. You are going to take what 2010 started and blow it up in Technicolor rays of light that can’t be ignored or suppressed. You are going to change it all, shake it all up and be smug when it settles and I look around with an amazed expression and a sotto voce “yesss…” You will deserve to be smug…and I’m looking forward to chaos and light and love and laughter and learning and challenge and catharsis.

Be brilliant, 2011…blind me.

I can hardly wait.

If life had a reset button

For what it’s worth, it’s never too late, or in my case too early, to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit... start whenever you want... you can change or stay the same. There are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. I hope you see things that stop you. I hope you feel things that you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life that you’re proud of and if you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again. -Benjamin Button

I had a headache, repaired a storm damaged fallen fence, broke the garage door, have a phone that won't let me communicate, shopped at a mall, caught a loose canine who splattered me with mud, took down my favorite Halloween decoration that the rain has now ruined, took my baby for cardiac testing after a fainting spell and was diagnosed myself with a tortuous case of tendonitis that makes EVERYTHING painful to do...including ALL OF THE ABOVE LISTED THINGS.

Then I came home and watched The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. It should really be called How to Put Your Shit in Perspective.

There is still beauty:

♥This week started my new job description, new shifts and new hours: Social Work Monday to Friday 6:45am to 3:15pm. It's lovely. The work is soul~feeding and the work day is done before I'm all used up.

♥I learned to love and honor me...to say NO when I want to say YES because I love me too much to settle for less than I deserve. Self~love is warm and snuggly.

♥I have love, time, money and energy to put into all the things listed above...and know when which one calls for which thing to throw at it. Love all around. Money sparingly and energy only where it will serve the purpose well. Time saved by tossing some of that green stuff at professionals. Then more love.

I really didn't have a clear idea of what a control freak I can be until I've had to channel massive amounts of energy into simply be-ing and trusting and allowing things to unfold as they are meant to.

Massive.

Amounts.

Of.

Energy.

Just.

Being.

...which should be kind of like sitting in neutral with your foot off the clutch. Not in this girl's world. It's more like trying to hold a pitbull on a meth/steroid cocktail on a leash with a bloody brisket just out of reach. Shall I go on?

Growth is painful and the more valuable the lesson, the harder it is to breathe through the growing pains. I'm breathing...and appreciating. Allowing. Accepting.

And still not able to let go of the hoping.

Ok, and visualizing...but that's okay, RIGHT!!!???!!!

When life hands you lemons...

and you are a parent of teenagers, they will be sure to request that you hand squeeze lemonade regardless of the papercuts all over your fingers.

You may say you do it anyway because you love them, but be sure they are laughing at you in their teenager brains all the while...and they don't even really want lemonade.

~Wisdom by me. I was one, I know.

Ick, reversed.

Yesterday, I...

¿had a collision while driving, my mustang vs. bike rider on meth (HE hit ME and begged me to not call the cops, between threats of throwing his bike at me and calling ME a crazy bitch).

¿lost two hens to a chicken hawk and have one remaining, very traumatized, hen left.

¿was bitten by a little dog, hard...on the arm for trying to stop her fight with the other little dog.

BUT! I also...

♥got to see my lovely...my mermaid soul sister...catch up & smile.

♥was bestowed generous gifts that I then paid forward.

♥sat and created for hours...know what all my peeps are getting for Christmas this year! ;)

Father's Day

Dad,

Seven years ago the scene in my kitchen was love and laughter sprinkled with excitement and adventure. I had just turned 32, your grandchildren were 10 and 8 1/2 years old. They were still young enough that cooking was mysterious...amazed that simple ingredients turned into mouth-watering deliciousness...and sending packages in the post was even more mysterious. Ashleigh said to me "you just put that little sticker on it and the mailman knows where to drive it to?" They tested those cookies we baked...the interesting combinations...walnut peanut butter chip and white chocolate cinnamon. Unusual and perfect for you. They labeled the bags in their precise grade-school penmanship and packaged them with care, insisting that we include some of the cherries from the trip to the Farmer's Market that morning. I sent it overnight mail and when you got them, we laughed about how the cookies came in crumbs...delicious crumbs!

We were planning a camping trip to the redwoods in a couple of months' time, emails flying back and forth and anticipation building daily. I had no clue that it was to be my last Father's Day with you. I had no clue that in a month's time you would be gone and the Redwoods would still be waiting. I had no clue that the memories we were making that day in the kitchen over your cookies would become so bittersweet.

Our history is fragmented but each piece of the puzzle was necessary for us to put together such a lovely picture in the end. I spent the first three years of my life adoring you, the next 15 pining for you followed by 11 resenting and rejecting you...coming full circle to the last three adoring you once again.

I'm so glad you never gave up, despite my sometimes harsh words and judgmental attitude. You taught me that patience and tenacity, you know. That and so much more. You came into your art late in life, paving the way for me to do the same. You used your words generously, intelligently while humbly allowing room for mistake...laughing at yourself before anyone else could. I follow your lead daily. You walked through this life at your own rhythm, being human and allowing that the guidelines for how to live a "right" life were simply that, guidelines. You were brave with your scars, making them visible as much as possible...knowing that the effort it took was what would save your life every day. You allowed me to come into your life as a mostly formed adult and when you fell in love who I was, I fell in love with me too. I hope it was the same for you. You strove to be simple in action but complex in mind. I see you in your grandchildren and know that I am teaching them your gifts. They were many, those gifts...and I miss you every day. I see you sometimes...in a sunrise or how the wind sounds...when the moths hatch each year or when I see a Golden Retriever...especially one that knows how to smile. Mostly I feel you. I know when you're laughing at me and it makes me comfortable in my own skin. I know when you're rolling your eyes and pushing me to lighten up. I usually do, don't I? There are a million things that let me know you're here and today I'll be dancing in my living room to Eric Burdon and the Animals...being lighthearted and grateful for those last three years...paying homage to you in the only way the feels right. By moving, being playful and letting the past guide the moment.

I miss you, Dad.

Famous, fabulous and future

♥Celebrities in my little world are dressed up like rockstars, superheroes and mermaids.

♥Veggie drawer cleanout soup...yummy!

♥Hearing news I didn't realize I had been waiting for...only to have it followed up with news I didn't want to hear...then realizing that all is as it should be and no matter what news there is, I am right where I am supposed to be and am headed right where I am supposed to be heading. ~sigh~

~big sigh~

"Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive." ~Howard Thurman

I took a break from here because I got scared. I started to feel alive inside and is that ever a scary place to be. Even scarier when it's accompanied by the knowledge of what barriers and obstacles are keeping the alive feeling inside...and the work it will take...the risks, the sacrifice, the changes and the especially the faith it will require to let the feeling turn into the "go do it" that is just dying to go and get done.

Then one day the scales tip and the fear has nowhere left to hold on...when passion and hunger and confidence become to big for the fear to have one single fingerhold anymore.

Hello Passion, Hunger & Confidence. I'm so very relieved to see you. Watch out, world...here we come.