spirited activity

i’ve got several support groups going right now, support for me, i mean.  i’m a hermit, we all agree, and natural shyness plays a part, as well as the hearing loss.   but these unconnected groups (2) have each asked that its members make some sort of week-long commitment to something they desire.  just a week, small things, little pokes in the monolith of ‘what we want’.  and so i have chosen.  ready?

i’m taking time this week to find my connection to Spirit.  I lost my faith in God when my Dad died, in totality.  Evidently I was mad, and also, now evidently, I had made my deity in the shape of my father.  I am working my way back to something that is related, but utterly different, and i’m just naming it Spirit, maybe as a copout? but as a way to communicate to others what it might be like… for me its like spring earth, chill damp but sunny… potential and a captured bit of change.  a focus on the surreal of nature and the connection i have to the larger world, stars and all.

how do i go about this? i mean, church ? no. no church. i can’t be hemmed in like that.

humility is involved, as always… because i am small, in a big big world.  (so are seeds…dig? )

and writing. i like writing. and want more of it.  and it sends out tendrils into my smoky soul.

six days, right?  tiny.


writing as a callout to divinity? universality? maybe i should light a candle.  maybe i should follow a prompt? look at an inspiring card? tarot? oracle?

maybe i should wear my favorite sneakers? dress the part? pencil holding hair? earrings? i know, i’m mostly just kidding. i know there’s nothing exterior that has anything to do with my inner.  but maybe if i put my feather earrings on it will remind me of the flights i take that fill me up and earth me down…

maybe my metaphors will be strong and able to hoist me over the threshold…

see what i did there?


love you guys.  i’ll keep you in the loop. 0307191408



Blow by Blow. tantalizing. (no, no, it isn’t.)

sigh. i’m just out of extra vim and vigor. had a week of vague and specific money worries. and a sick kid, monday, wed and thursday. sent her to school on tuesday thinking all was well.  FA! HA! no. so sorry to all we may have infected in my mistake and her longing. so no work was done really, as tuesday was a day of dullard and sleeping for me because i’d been awake for all of sunday and monday.  friday was a half day and i’d promised the boys they could stay home and this is what summer will be like.. the 24 hour a day rush of what to do, how to provide exercise and something more enriching than a screen… it begins to not even make sense anymore, the days blur into one another.

and now i’m on saturday, the kids are here, we’ve gone out to breakfast at the breakfast spot a mile away, we’ve gone to dad’s house and seen his skinny frame in the door to claim soccer cleats left behind, we’ve gone and browsed target, successfully not purchasing anything, and i had all 3 with me.  (not meaning to be blasphemous, but that might actually be the biggest miracle of the Capitalist ages…)

now we are here. we are more than here. we have arrived to fill the time with forts and screens and possibly jelly beans, if i can find where i stashed them.

i’ve got an online circle to check in with at 11 and a soccer game at two.  and a birthday party and another soccer practice this evening. bouncing, a lot of bouncing. and i’m going to bring a book.

thats it. tomorrow sunday we begin anew. baseball and i’m hoping a play. weekends are no joke.

the times in betweens the activities are just as lush as cashmere on a grey dismal day. you just have to remember to dig it out of the sweater box.

blaugh. uwme.


this photo was just so beautiful. i had to.

variety of vegetables
Photo by Ella Olsson on

MOney Mony

So, here in the land of the spring chill, the snow is just about gone. and the copious amounts of dogshit are uncovered… along with the shock and awe campaign of crocus and snowdrop.

Its a tough haul for me right now.  Haven’t been making enough in the freelancing world to satisfy my quotas.  And yes, I can live on alimony and childsupport, but I am bleeding to try and not to.  And, I don’t mean that I am bleeding.  I mean that I am desperately desirous of a financial future which does not involve my listening to J moan. Because the problem really is that I agree with him.  I SHOULD be supporting myself and my children. I SHOULD!

all those other arguments involving the reality of my situation and the kids and the house and the all of it, don’t weigh as much in my inner drama as the capital letters higher up.

and i’ve heard all kinds of arguments against my feelings, and i get it. i wish i could believe in them.


So, I’m trimming down. I’m cancelling things and I am asking for scholarships to some of the things I want to keep doing but can’t afford to.  And it makes my ears burn and it makes me cry in shame.  (and yes, my sister, i know you would loan me money, but these are my choices and i’m sticking by them. )  Now, if someone else told me about these things, I have a whole host of supportive things I would say.  But me?  I literally feel pain in my heart.

so much shame.  my friend Alix says to me ‘i’m pretty sure capitalism is not okay’. … and i laugh and that feels much better than shame.

and i don’t have any answers or any directions right now. just applying for more work over and over. and stretching to do stuff i don’t feel super comfortable doing. so there. needs. discomfort.



Chakra Carol Says…

there are three primary fears that people all share.  these do not include spiders, and dark basements and vats of toxic sludge or plastics in the ocean or fucking fatassholes in government.

these are they:

  1. fear of abandonment
  2. fear of having no value
  3. fear of surrender of power

what do you think about this? i feel like i could go up and down the street proclaiming my fears, those i’m comfortable enough with to speak aloud… and some of them i can see, are just magnifications of one or more of those three.

what say you?

i feel like making this a short one. because i need to think on it some more and i want to gather more wool about it.

we say fear is a liar. we, of the ‘we’ in my head. . .


Boy on Platform in winter Unwifedmotherexpletive


raggedy bitch

so i am home with a child recovering from a night of throw up and fever. she responds like a champ to kids ibuprofen so right now she seems completely normal, like maddeningly normal. .  . but in 4.3 hours, when that dose runs out… its back to weep and groan and moan. . . so there. there is that.

i am mom, hear me roar. again.  this season has been ridiculous. RIDICULOUS.

its nice that so many years have passed of momming now… i get tired… but i’m not nearly as depleted as I was when it was new, and there were two under three… its a huge universe of different.

i’m not as ragged anywhere… sometimes i think back to that time and i wonder how i even got through it.  i was in a marriage that didn’t give me a feeling of safety, or any real sense of ‘break’… i was home with kids all the time and i was overwhelmed by all of it.  i was completely unsure that I existed, outside of what i ‘did’.

i was some kind of raggedy.

there is a real reservoir of peace in my life now.  it sits right next to the reservoir of fear that i also have.  twinning.

honestly, i can’t tell you if the peace pond has gotten deeper or if the fear reservoir is wider or if there’s more peace because the kids are older or because Hubs is out of the picture?  I mean, thats a whole lot of choice and powerful changes, right?

I was supposed to have a meeting with my Reiki teacher, chakra carol, today… but because of kid sickness it was cancelled.  I mean, if i had a dollar for every time i’d had to cancel something because of kids?  sheesh…

anyhow. so we talked on the phone and i bedazzled her with a million items to talk about before she waited me out to exhaustion. and then… things like this.

We are all on a journey to peace. we just don’t all know it.

Acknowledging the fear is the beginning of unraveling it.

I don’t have to go on a shamanic journey, naked in the desert, to deal with my fears, I just have to keep noticing them.  Noticing when I feel them, when I avoid them, what I think they might be…

and Not being ready doesn’t mean Never being ready.


So there are days like this, when little is done but laundry and a movie or two… and still, i can drift a thousand times more whole than i ever was before, and there is still work to be done. but here i am. existing.