Humanity

Re-arriving

I’m slowly coming back into the world.  I’m working each day and making absurd money in small bits of time. Its not enough bits yet, but this morning I made $100 in twenty minutes. So that math? You dig? shoot. And i’m not even a hooker.

I’m coming back into my intellect, with a little removal from the hectic of childcare and whatnots.  I’m listening to a workshop that a woman named Alison Armstrong gave, on Audible. Its the first time I’ve spent so much time listening to something. Her website is called UnderstandMen, which cracks me the hell up.   I have the fancy earphones which STRONGLY resemble earmuffs, so I walk around in my slippers on purpose so I can feel like some kind of Nordic Lodge Bunny. (that’s a thing, right?)

I’ve even felt my spirit stirring, as I tend my home in the tiniest of ways, here and there, attending to space in a seasonal transition.  Tending, without rush, with a feeling of satisfaction at tiny change upon tiny change. And there is the light here. And I have a new painting on the wall that Jessica Kinsella painted, and its astonishing. I’ll try and photo it when the light is right. Maybe I’ll get it in here.

Today is my sister’s birthday. It is a fantastic day to be alive, all the more so because of a day we all remember for something else.  It is a fantastic day to be alive.

 

Thank you, Shannon.

My heart is trying its damnedest to stir to full beat. My intellect and fear-based life experiences are getting in my way. But I’m trying to understand myself, and be gracious to myself, at least, more often than not. and, LM seems to be a very patient man. I’m trying so hard to allow myself to have faith in another person. Its way trickier than I thought it would be.

Jessica Kinsella painting, detail. Unwifedmotherexpletive
my photo does not do it justice. It glows. It is illuminated in color.

 

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Humanity

Daisy Crowns

Currently my LM (Loveliest Man)  is in the hospital. He’s okay, likely to be getting out today, not a heart attack but a very mild stroke-like thing.

I have a friend receiving a bone-marrow transplant as I type.

I have two online friends starting chemo this week. two.

another online friend has a child with Leukemia, in treatment currently.

We all need to tie up our strings, or let them fly out behind us in the wind, as we run across the fields we have sown.

saying ‘the world is too much with us’ isn’t enough.  the world is frucking scary right now and I don’t know how to console my children when the amazon is on fire. for profit.

Get your daisy crowns on, make your prayer chains. lie down in the grass. i mean it.

My energy is all about expansion and explosion these days.  Gobs of love and delight are landing like napalm and burning all over the place. Send it.

and pray for us all, in your way. all the time, really. 0817191123a

 

 

Humanity

Two Distinct Ideas. glommed together.

  1. I’ve been having bad dreams lately. the kind where you wake up and shake your head and feel anxious in your heart and go back to sleep and end up in exactly the same place.
    dream one: having an old argument with an old argue-partner, in which i am reminded how easy it is to gaslight me, which has many layers in it. his completely unacceptable behaviors were justified to me, and I struggled (again) to absorb the justifications as valid.
    dream two: really big house party (mine) in which there are long and lithe people in black and white and beauty and dancing and a gorgeous house that i really would love…and I don’t know anyone and I’m waiting for someone to arrive that i can talk to. the only person who does is an old lover that I’m embarrassed to explain this all to. I spend the dream avoiding and seeking his presence.  and feeling really isolated whilst surrounded by people. I do dance though.

There is a full moon, i am full of premenstrual hormonal shift. I never, ever, remember dreams. I have a new love who is challenging me in many core ways and I am fighting HARD the notion that I can rely on someone else.  HARD.  if i rely on someone again, i will be crushed and therein lose my ability to do this all by myself like i am.  I’m the only thing that is permanent here.

this is fairly distressing to type as well as to feel.

2. The kitchen is a goddamned mess. I need the kids to be back in school.  There is too much screen time and I’m missing them while they are having such fun times with their dad.  It is too much sometimes, and I”m overloaded by the disparities between the two and my rational brain really does argue for my value but ouch, sometimes. guess what? i do not own a boat or have the ‘best’, or buy my kids ipads because they win a dare.  i just can’t. and so i feel like a loser sometimes and right now the kitchen just feels too big to even tackle. i’ll do one corner of it today before all pandemonium of my work shift/drive kid to babysitting grandmother sets in. probably. or maybe i’ll just cry in the corner. hello moon. and hormones, hello.

aren’t you glad you stopped in?  hee hee. ugh.

and so, a brilliantly beautiful photo to round it out:

Carrots in a Yellow Bin UnwifedMotherExpletive

Humanity

old wives tales

ideas for someone else to do.

old wives tales. tales from people who are or have been a wife* for more than a decade. … all your tales are old wives tales. all the things you’ve learned, all the world you’ve seen.

lets venerate ourselves. more, more. more.

get those glennon doyles, those liz gilberts, those oprahs, those anne lamotts… get them, put them in one spot and shine the hell out of them. read them to our kids, start borrowing bits of their knowledge and calling it our own, because we’re them too, just not with any platform.  we do know as much as they do, actually.

although i envy the hell out of their ability to think and process and then SHARE so well.  i’m missing at least one step at all times.

but still. bring it on, we old wives. . .

0427191244

 

*recognizing ‘wife’ doesn’t have to mean ‘church wedding’, or hetero-anything.

Humanity

tallulah

i’m supposed to be a love giver, an affirmer.  i am.  not just ‘supposed’ to be …

i ACTUALLY am, but i’ve fallen off the wagon. and when you do that and you feel like you fail in that way, it is dank. moist. musty in a bad, bad way.

in one of the groups i am in, its actually my ‘job’ to be the lovah.  and i’m falling off. sucking at it. NOT being the affirmer, NOT showing up at all.. dodging even.

UGH. I’m trying to work myself back to authentic me. whatever that is.  like this title? i just like to say that word. a lot. so, finding the things I like and utilizing them.

i’ve taken on some little baby resets (courtesy of ms Hannah marcotti)  … for six days at a time, i’ll add a new habit.  i’ve added water to my desk. all the time, there’s a glass of water just sitting there. (so thats like, self-care, right? water?)

i’ve sometimes light a candle. (meh. only sometimes) i’m keeping the candle, but i might not keep that one. i like it, but hello sometimes i forget i have lit it. (overnight, once. so. danger.)

i’ve decided to read for all the minutes i have before six am. and sometimes thats almost an hour.

today it was two hours.

so the books are back in town, and that feels good.

i feel like my chipper is just around the corner.  i’m tired of being in my cave, kind of. only a little. not really.

but something does need to be different. and i actually need those pieces of me back, those affirming-of-others pieces… its my legs, yo.

yo.

My legs to stand on. Unwifedmotherexpletive