Humanity

Today’s Mood is not a good one.

just letting you know.

  1. All my chickens got eaten. This would be an AGAIN situation.  I’m renaming spring.  Tis now, “That time Kate fed foxes.”
  2. I’m going to build a huge pen, to house the fucking rooster who is still alive.  Okay, so can we talk about his job performance here? Because I really would like to, and it doesn’t seem like real live people in real life want to hear me rant about the cock and all the blusterfuck that goes with it. Helloooo guy who drives a HUMMER.
  3. I’m going to build a huge pen and see if i can make it super strong and viable with pallets and essentially found objects because i really do not have extra money. and I have a handy man around these days and he says its coo.
  4. so coo.
  5. i really like having chickens. it feels like a tie to the ground, and i want to be tethered like that.
  6. it just occurred to me that if i don’t have chickens i am more free to move. that is a whole kettle of fish that i am not really looking at until the last one is 18, and thats a whole different kettle. and all of it makes me sad. i love this place. LOVE.
  7. FUUUUCK.
  8. I love this month, its my birthday month. and school is ruining it.  i live in tremendous fear and anxiety that i am missing the ‘pivotal’ ‘most important’ cute things of their educational careers.  the kids don’t like being the only kids with no parents there, even if they literally NEVER are the only kids with no parents there. i feel sick at buying into the overparenting bullshit. but here i am.
  9. i’m going to be 45. i love it. what a fucking great number.
  10. thats all i got. mood. just rode on a rider mower for an hour, cleaning up my yard.
    BOSS.

 

love you,

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Humanity

Lies I tell myself lately. . .

bakery baking birthday blur
Photo by Tookapic on Pexels.com

I will eventually be done with this.

(it applies to 100s of things, and its a lie, in 100s of situations.)

I’m not addicted to my screen. I read.

(I haven’t read in weeks. if i could write this in teeny tiny print i would.)

I know a little about technology.

(i know less than a cupful of the ocean, and I get by on graphic directions only.)

I’m not that good at a lot of things.

(it is 100% true that I am not good at things I do not care about. truly. but what I DO care about? rockstar.)

I don’t know what I’m doing.

(yes, yes I do. I just don’t trust my instincts. But I’m still doing the things. and worrying about it as it happens.)

I’m going to join a gym.

duh.

 

What lies are you believing lately?

 

Humanity

Projection is a motherfucker.

I did, I did try to come up with a better title. I mean, there are kids here.

But my kids know my language, and thankfully have no interest in what i write, so, good.

So. therapy yesterday was cancelled because there were, albeit temporarily, two kids home sick from school.  one went in late because she had a nap and all was well. turns out, my almost 14 year old still likes to whip himself into a froth about exciting things and is comatose in my bed while he ‘prepares’ for his trip to DC.

But, I got to talk to Chakra Carol on the phone because I really, really want to know what all this harsh judgement of others is doing/serving/exposing in me… because i’m not really allowing myself to talk to anyone because i’m so ugly inside and it just hurts.

Chakra Carol says:

A relationship arrives which gives you the opportunity to heal.  You have a lot of anger, but now there is no one to pin it on.  You cannot trust, but there is no one to pin it on.  SO KABOOM, out into the universe it goes…

KABOOM.  because, dealing with it in myself is much less clear and easy than looking at other people and judging them for what sins i see in myself. pretense, manipulation, control issues…

Am I false? falsifying my life? Am I manipulating facts to make pretty stories? (i seem to be failing this, if its my intention, because hello ugly.) Mostly, I don’t think so but ask me if I value my self… i dare you.

Ask me if I believe in my innate goodness? Do i deserve fresh coffee or do i deserve yesterday’s remains? (this, yes, is actually a thing)

My fears are running wild. so i have work to do.  noticing. ( a big C.C. thing)  in noticing, not judging.

say, ‘I am fearful of being in a relationship in which I am not mistreated’.

say, ‘I am afraid that I am inherently unlovable.’

say, ‘I do not trust that I can be loved.’

Notice it in me, and don’t judge it. let it lie. point at it, if need be, but let it lie.

slow. slow. slow.

roll on it like a marble.  but don’t judge it.

maybe if i can lay it down like a river, i’ll remember my compassion for myself, and by the transitive property, the rest of the world.

because .  we both deserve it. me. and the world.

Shrubbery Heart Unwifedmotherexpletive
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

Divorce, Humanity

small life, redux. (ha!)

Its like the balls of tinfoil candywrappers you find around the house after any holiday, but halloween and easter really seem to be the producers around here.  the little bit of sparkle that is bitter when mouthed.

thats what its like. listening to myself when i’m scared of something.

UnwifedMotherExpletive Small Life tinfoil wrapperand i’m scared, a little, of this small life i have, and the change inherent in the choice of vulnerability.

i have this brilliant life.. although there has been a lot of death this week, in life and in my chicken coop, and the contrast between humanity and farm has never been more clear.

the loss of 10 birds to a death by suicide?

wordless .

 

 

 

large break.

and remembering can be pretty hard sometimes.  and imagining can be hard sometimes, too, when pain and deepest sadness are at root. and in a small life it can be all consuming.

but there are other sides to the coin, as always.

this small life, this dandelion of detail that keeps pushing its way into my foreground, this need to spread joy underground, to be persistent against all the formality and form of the ‘just so’… it is me digging in my heels against the perfect lawn, the ‘be happy’ mentality, against my own self-judgement for having a ‘mom’s boyfriend’… because i judge that phrase . so. damn. much.  and i can withdraw more and more. and the small life warps a little… and again, and again, the dandelion bursts its sun into a million wishes… and who the hell am i to warp that?

and i’m so incredibly lucky and so incredibly heartbroken that not everyone finds the dandelion.

 

thats a sentence to end on…

Humanity

A Small Life

I have been coming to the realization that there may not be hundreds of people at my funeral.

This may be a strange opening sentence.  I can’t tell anymore. I spend a lot of time alone.

I’m smiling.  people that love me tend to argue with me over this point. i’m not totally sure why. kind of, maybe, but not entirely.

i’m 44, i’m an introvert.  i love and take great great pleasure in working from home and having the kids with me when they are. (mostly. i’m no saint.) i’m a homebody. i don’t want my kids to be sick but its a thrill of a lifetime when they are and i can nourish them to health. *I’m here, I’m the universe.  I love people and I like to see them and laugh with them. but my circles are small, and i take great delight in the smallness of my life, most of the time.

when my dad died 5 years ago, there were hundreds of people at his services. and i’m not exaggerating. and i know other people who are still alive who will have that problem… well, you know what i mean… but i’m working on being really content with who i am.

working like: dirtyhands in the soil working.  cracked skin and calloused fingers.

i have a small life. a little life.  a life with children who are dynamic people living in my home still, a home, a dog, chickens, some land, a very fledgling ability to make a living…small.  *not insignificant, just small.

*the universe is in the grain of rice, ya dig?  thats me.

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