asterisk, not bullet.

a moment, a star to mark what has been left out.

left out? so many things.

*the insecurity that keeps us back… we believe its insecurity that keeps us from being our wild and precious stuff.

*people keep saying they are grieved by mary oliver’s death.  i am not.  she has left us such a precious gift, my god, what more does anyone want from a life?

nothing gold can stay.

but i can read her glitter absolutely any time that i want to, or need to. Its still here. ITS STILL HERE!!!

*the adulting that makes us need tell another adult we don’t want to romantically pursue them. or have them pursue us.

the feeling that results when there is no pursuit. even if the above sentence is also true.

*the place in myself that is getting depressed at not meeting anyone that fires up my heart fires. maybe a belief that nothing gold can stay is making its weight felt too heavily.

*the deep worry that it is not insecurity, but fatheaded laziness that keeps us from our greater wild. inability. lassitude.

because maybe that is true.

these are the left-outs. the misfits. the misfires.



Golden Orbs and Mud

i’ve been trying to wrap my head around something in these past couple days.  bumping into alcohol again makes me feel pretty badly about myself, which is irrational, i know, but so it is anyhow.  i feel like mud.

but then someone said something so SO nice about me, something I am very very proud that could be said about me, not simply because i believe it to be true.

she commented on how strong my support was. and it is. when i love someone, i plant my feet and lean out over the water and face the hurricane down. i really fucking do.  and i deeply feel that the people that i love deserve the best that there is. and anything else is unacceptable.  it is deeply true and whether that friendship is virtual or not, i fucking think that my people are absolutely golden orbs in the world.

and many of you reading this are those orbs. and when i find someone in need of my support, i plant those feet again, or bring my ass right down to the ground, open my chest and send them all the light and love and fierceness that they need.  and most of the time, it is felt. almost always. because the energy around me shifts and the energy of the whole world shifts when that sort of love is shot out.


So what i’ve been grappling with is this… how is it i can feel so lonely but feel so connected?  am i waiting for crises to happen to get that connection?

also, it makes it a little bit difficult with the number of people coming in and out of my life as i date. mostly, i will only date them if i feel this love… and i grow this love like the best green-thumbed organic farmer you’ve ever been jealous of…

its been hard to bump into people who don’t want this fierceness.  i fundamentally do not understand. its beyond, ‘well we’re not a good match’… i don’t mind that, at all, its true, so far, every single time… 🙂 however, the abiding, the glowing orb love is still there for me, i still would fill the room with my love for any of them. literally. and i don’t want that to change.

i just wonder about it. what is it?

my heart hurts a little.  physically, i mean.

i think with the mud feeling comes resentment, which is always a lie, i think.  but while i am being lied to, i wonder where i am in this energy surge. . .

its like a cost-benefit analysis, oddly enough.  i’ve just marie kondo’d my bedroom and there is a shit-ton of clothing that is out of my life, and old pillows, jewelry and blankets. gone. i mean, so much so i struggled to lift the contractor bag i filled . and the three or four others… and i’m not feeling the lift yet.  i ‘m not feeling the ringing of the bells, just the flat affect of a person who now only owns three pair of pants and two leggings and a lot, a lot of skirts. so whats the cost? a day of work, an hour of dropping off.  the benefit? mm. um… huh. i did feel glad that someone is going to be completely psyched to see some of my pants on the rack.  i did feel that postponed joy…

huh. so this. all this. i’m wondering. and feeling like mud.  while surrounded by you lovely orbs.


and if you are thinking, o, its so nice that she loves all her people, i say this to you in all sincerity… nope… its you. its you, too.  you get it, you freaking worthy glow-y orb.


Integrity and Love

ha. i wrote down this title twenty days ago. just the title.  haaaaaaaaaaaaa.

what on earth do i have to say about this one? why are they together? i mean, of course they SHOULD be, but integrity should/could sorta be paired with all things… integrity and pizza. integrity and grit.  integrity and the bald man.  i mean, c’mon.


lately i’ve been faced with a person who doesn’t respect my position in the family.  as mother, as home-maker, as valuable member of society, even.  and, because i am non-confrontational, and my role with this person has been conciliatory much of my adult life, i see no point in arguing.  literally, no point. It has been this way for years… if nothing in life has shown my value to this person, than no words will do it.  and certainly no angry ones.

and so i have had to let quite a bit of misinformation, insult, or disrespect lie . lie on the floor like the dog it is.  without a bit of response on my part.

while i may congratulate myself for my ‘grownupitude’,  i also am side-eye-ing my quick and dirty ‘shouldhavesaid’s fairly often, and it does run through my head on the daily.

so there is peace, yes, but it feels pocked… and i know its of a different quality than what i’m looking for.

a friend suggested that i make a video of all the ‘shouldhavesaids’ in order to lighten the load.  i might do it.  i feel a little cheap making it public though, even if just to friends, because i feel like the weight is on me, to take it, to unburden myself in private, to re-stock my ponds with healthy fish.

what do you do with all your ‘shouldhavesaids’ … how do you release them?

I’m including this lovely photo to highlight what is… not what we wish, but what IS. 





i’m no nancy kerrigan, i will tell you that.


i should just stop there and have that be my funniest post ever.

but i never know whats good for me, so on i go.

… so i read a lot, i think sometimes, i like to stare out the window, i do strange work online for people i don’t know… and somehow in many of the circles and floats i have done, i’ve been bumping into this same question again and again, and in all the directions. specifically, why…  finding, sliding, crashing into this need to question everything, to satisfy the curiosity about WHY i am thinking a thing, WHY i am desiring a thing… WHY am i going backwards in my mental gymnastics about strangers, etc… (and i think i’m done again, btw)  …

i want to live this way.  i WANT to.  i want to question myself as i flit from room to room avoiding writing… WHY am i getting up right now? WHY am i not writing? WHy am i so uncomfortable TRYING something? WHY does my brain skitter away from the hard questions?

deeper:  WHY do i want to write? WHY do i think there will be so much failure? WHY do i think i’m not smart enough? WHY? What am i so scared of?

even working my brain into a corner makes my skin hot, and i can feel my ears.




Christmas, and the wind howls…

so, there are these things.

  1. everyone should get divorced. everyone. because during the time that the former-spouse has the kids, you do not. so what i get is three full days before christmas in which i actually roll around in christmas spirit.  i might bake cookies, i might wrap something. I danced in the kitchen. i reveled. in the spirit of sparkle and gifting of greens, and all of it. i even went out to a store on christmas eve, to buy myself a present.  god bless marshall’s. i don’t think i’ve ever been into a store on christmas eve and i was there really early, and i was so happy to see that the employees were mostly giddy and laughing, and not beleagured.
  2. don’t get divorced because i say so.  really.
  3. but maybe you could shake things up and send them to your folks before the holiday, to give yourself your own merry. if you have folks, if you like merry.
  4. i just came downstairs after a long bath, ready to order pizza for dinner because i’ve been ill, and i’m ready for bed.  Its 1:23 in the afternoon.   this was both, a funny moment and a sad one.  the kids have been on screens for the entire day, and made their own lunches while i pointed weakly from the chair. barely.
  5. my mom dropped off gatorades because the 6 year old and i were not keeping down any water and i was concerned about other things… 6 year old has now fully recovered and even ate chicken nuggets.  that is frankly disgusting and i’m aware of the possibility of demonic possession.
  6. i am not recovered. but i’m typing, i’m looking out the window.  i’m so glad Christmas is over.  Its just too much for my kids.  Its all meerrrgh.  too many inflated expectations and disappointed faces. its insane.


do you like it? Christmas, I mean. If you do christmas? (though i’ve heard hannukah has its own challenges… and lasts 8 freaking days….) i like it, but only for my rolling around in glitter experience, not as an experience i have with kids. 1227181017a I’m not sure its good for them, and I’m sort of tired of doing it to them.

i’m not sure the ‘spirit of Christmas’ means someone should be distraught because they are just overstimulated.

there’s something of a feeling of being trapped by the expectations, as a parent… and i’d like to figure something out to change it up a bit, maybe give them a few more options as they move out into the world.

hm. we’ll see. i’ve got a little time.