Wednesday, August 31, 2011

this girl she is....

she is like the lychee nut, guarded and suited on the outside and soft and lushish at the core. things mean something to her deeply penetrating the barrier of construction. once through the shell one is caught by the sweet and tart taste of her beholding. this fruit is not of common origin but exotic a prize to be held on to.

she is a flavor so unique and unexpected that she always lingers in you heart and mind. you may ignore her for a while but then in a off moment the wind changes and you taste and smell her scent as clear as the first time you kissed her on the street corner. all the waves of school boy innocence and joy come flooding back with the thought of that girl. you miss her as she in those moments of recollection misses you.

this girl, while she maybe called sister, was and will never been that word of familial connection...she is closer and more distanced. she is the one who has walked away and yet holds the promise of another try another go for another day. never will she play the harem games of some, while in the pack she stands aside waiting for her turn to run wild and wide.

she is a flower wild beauty hardy and unknown...she is a lychee nut waiting rediscovery.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011


the music is inescapable...this rare sound which sticks like glue to my head and heart. i am unable to pull away...this pile of albums the only tonality that makes sense right now. even when i walk away turning to the randomness of shuffle...the wanton drums call me back to a perpetual sirens' call. i hear God speaking, see the light and darkness battling in the rhythms in the lyrics in the band in their fans...the unique swirling of worlds coming together and crashing away. the gifts i have been given shine brightly in the light of this art, this heartache and beauty. twelve years of angry and tears and calling out to God- Christ, mother, father, spirit. the high of life and the shattering of loss is bound up like paints mingling on my canvas. and so many echos of my life live in these songs created by others. my lovers past and future are held in a name and a cord. i do not want to be one of the crowd i need light and air mixing with the awareness of dark. i need to go back to two hotel rooms and speak my heart and mind. i need to reclaim the years wasted on those unworthy of my earth-mother beauty...i need to learn my guitar to play it like a lover so i will not be at the mercy of others to create. i want to feel or not feel this's so cloudy here i don't know which is more true. i want something to charge my system, miracles, tattoo, lover, surprise...

then i wonder... i just an addict drawn in by the high? a junkie seeking her next fix or a mystic and traveler seeking truth and love and life? what i do not want to be is one who trades in addictions and need...i want to be unfettered by need but bound by love. dreaming of one day when i will be enough to not be forgotten to be seen again and not disregard or passed over in time. i want to be artist and muse and lover and servant to find God in the arms of another and outside those arms. how did i come to this place with these songs and these ideas and these people? how did i end up standing half in and half out, my heart wanting in and wanting to run away as fast as i can to say "piss off i didn't want to play anyhow" but also in the same breath crying "but i am worthy being here...i have so much to give" i feel all those childhood emotions of wanting to be loved and accepted so badly...and yet the anger that comes when i would get rejected. all i wanted....all i want is to be seen, to be good enough to play, to be mysterious and memorable someone for whom one cannot walk away.

Monday, August 29, 2011


a white hot rage floods my brain, the anger of so many things unsaid and thoughts just simmering in the mind. i want to cry and break plates, shatter glasses and throw paint...the psychotic generational chaos sits like a wanton angel in the corners of my mind. the threat of mental instability quickens my heart shooting tremors of fear through potentially tainted veins. once again to young and alone to deal with all of these grown up things, being asked to make decisions beyond my experiences and pay grade. doubt and fear are playing craps in the alley with self destruction, each cackling over what they will do with my lucky won soul. hope and promise step in ruining their fun...yet anger still sits like a bird on my chest. she shoots blues and white phoenix feathers in all directions...she calls me to create to write to do something so that i will not burst in to flames or let the chaos of the mind-fuck so often called my brain take that last wild ride over the edge into utter madness.

names runs through my head like participants in a half marathon, i offer them each what they ask for slowly slicing away at myself. this morning i had a conversation with my father, which with the right shifting of words and addition of expletives was similar to one i had with someone else a month ago. it totally freaked me out of my skin...the connection between these two men being way to close for comfort. school is out, relationships are over, and the wild hidden confusion has come back in waves. doubt, fear, the desire to destroy everything and run away is chomping at my bit...i'm getting better at it but this living in tension is a bitch. i need to find means and ways to cope with things to work my way back to reality. with three deep breaths i release the evil birds for a while....

Monday, August 22, 2011

on this day... (NFTPL #57)

in less than two hours it will be my 32nd birthday...gosh what a scary number that is. i remember several years ago watching sex in the city and realizing that 30 was my scary age and here i am now two years past it. there have been many beautiful happenings this year that has made it one of the best so far that i would have missed if i had stayed in the fear that comes with having a scary age because that fear would have bound me to people and places that i was not made for. instead i risked and unfettered myself and journeyed here to a place of flourishing and promise. as i look towards this next year i have not expectations just hope that i will end up in the places i need to be doing the things that i am called to and from there the impossible and incredible will flow into my life.

i hope this next year of mine will be filled with visions lived out, travel nationally and internationally, great music & musicians, videos and creative projects, a company, seeing my best friend fall in love again (this time with the right man), watching two other friends continue to fall in love, more babies, more weddings, and maybe just maybe a relationship for me too. there are so many incredible possibilities and i can't wait to see how they will grow and form into lovely wild gifts and unexpected pleasures.

Missing the Northwest... (NFTPL #56)

musing over the reality that i have lived in los angeles, the promised land, for almost a year i realized this morning while checking out the lovely photography of sarah jurado (incredible artist and wife of musician damien jurado that i do very much miss certain aspects of the pacific northwest. out of my almost 32 years of life, 30 were spent either in portland, oregon or seattle, washington...when i was 1 i lived with my parents in quebec, canada for a year while they went through missions training and this last year i have lived in los angeles but beyond that i am truly a child of the northwest.

so what are some of the things that i miss about the northwest you may ask?

well for one i miss ferryboat and the ability hop on a ferry, travel across the sound and journey to port townsend or some other place...riding the ferry in seattle was something that always sends shivers of joy to my heart! there is something completely sensual and exciting about traveling in this manner. it is a mini adventure that even if i have taken already five times in recent history i am still excited for whatever mystery and miracle decided to present it's self...the child-like wonder of taking a ferry is never lost for me.

secondly i miss late and all night coffeeshops that are situated in relatively safe many late night papers were written either at zoka's or u-village starbucks or both. i have yet to find a great coffee place to study late at night here in los angeles...many great bars but no addition i also miss the coffee culture of the northwest, the many independent places that have incredible coffee. with a few exceptions...i am stuck drinking, starbucks which after years of well made and hand crafted coffee pales in comparison.

continuing on in the late night vein...i miss the ability to go to parks after dark...unless it's the beach there just aren't safe open spaces to go to at night here and have deep conversations. so many of the most interesting and memorable nights of my life in seattle were spent at the beach or parks with cigarettes and bad coffee sharing life and conversations.

tattoos, i mean good ones, artistic and beautifully designed tattoos. now i am not saying that all people in los angeles have awful tattoos but when out here there are very that i come across and am blown away by the creativity and artistic quality of the tattoo. where as in the northwest most of the people i know who have tattoos are artists and have really incredible body art.

oh yeah and all the great mid-range concert venues (the tractor tavern, the crocodile cafe, neumos, the showbox, even chop suey) so far i have only encountered two good venues the troubadour and the satellite....i miss my venues...

and lastly what i miss most about the friends and family!

Sunday, August 21, 2011

connection and sexuality

i've been reading through resources on sexuality and faith in preparation for writing a research paper on the topic...doing all of this writing has got me thinking about many things in regard to these subjects. something that has been unearthed is the idea of the interplay between rejection and desire. as a woman who has grown up in a culture where my value and worth is often perceived to be equal to the amount of desire that men have for me...i have experienced a lot of rejection. and while part of me would rage against this idea that one should seek said desire i also know that without feeling desirable there is part of me as a woman that is blocked off and hides away my strength and power. my beauty was intended to be seen and drawn out by the bold strength and goodness of men, at the core of relational dynamics there is a key element that draws out the beauty and strength of a woman when she is loved and desired well. when this is not present or leaves there can be, unless she is very rooted and grounded in the truth of who she is, a lessening or hiding of that women's true self.

i found today as i had time to work and reflect on thing that i have been hiding and questioning the truth of my beauty and desirability...that the broken part of my heart feels that in the absence of attention and a man in my life holds the reality that i fear most, that i am not enough. which is complete crap...but tell that to the wormy part of my rebellion heart, just because something didn't work out into the type of relationship or image i had for it does not mean that i am not enough...does not mean that i am not sexy or intelligent or beautiful or desirable enough...what it means is that there is another relationship which is better suited for the unique beauty that is me...there is another man who is better matched, who needs me and i need. in the absence of each of us from the other's life is an absence from the needs of the world and the works of restoration and hope. where this man is i have no idea and i'm pretty sure he is in the same boat. so all i can do is keep moving forward and hope that the man that seems like a mythical figment of my imagination right now continues to hope and move forward as well.

Thursday, August 18, 2011


each moment of each day we choose how we will seek for life or death...i know it doesn't seem as simple as that and yet i do think it is just that simple. when we experience loss and heartache and the terror of shalom shatter, which is that realization that things are not the way they were meant or created to be...we have choice. over the next few days a community, a family really of people that that i love dearly and greatly admire are grieving the anniversary of a great and large hearted man's passing. this is a hard week i am sure...being still on the edges i can only feel the bits and pieces of that grief and recall my own days of remembrance on the day of loved one's journey out of body and into the more perfect body and soul.

when these days come scheduled or unscheduled with the flood of loss and memory and ache for those who now only inhabit dreams and photos and stories...there a choice offered. we can choose to celebrate the moments that we have had and were blessed to have with that person...those dreams and memories and stories and songs...or we can live in the regrets of all the things unsaid and not experienced. i am not saying that those shouldn't been wept over or held because they are true spaces of grief and loss and they ache like hell but that is not the place to live. the call in grief is to live into what you have been offered through that parent, friend, child, lover to let their beauty and life and joy and encouragement be that which moves you to the greatness you were created for until it is your time to pass into life in a different form. choosing this is choosing life.

by nature we are seared by those we love, they are imprinted on our hearts and we on theirs it is an inescapable nature of things. sometimes that is even transferred to you after that person has left this life because part of their essence lives in the heart of another whom you love. however it happens we are bound to each other in tight cords of tight that death and distance and loss cannot break them. i am still bound to lovers and friends and family who has passed out of my life or this life...i hope this week for my friends will be one of remembering the greatness of a man dearly loved and dearly loving. may michael's heart still shine brightly for all to see reflected through those he loved and who love him.

"When you remember me, it means you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. I means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart." ~frederick buechner

 memory~ the call (michael been & company)

In my memory
I can still see that face
In my memory
I can still hear the voice
I remember talkin' with you
The stories I could tell
In my memory, I remember you still
You gave the poet words to speak
you were the sun to warm my days
You put us in each others hands
You gave me love before I asked
In my memory
I can still see that face
In my memory
I can still hear the voice
I remember talkin' with you
The stories I could tell
In my memory, I remember you still
I feel my heart will surely break
I've taken all that I can take
You were the light for me to see
You were the sky that covered me
In my memory
I can still see that face
In my memory
I can still hear the voice
I remember talkin' with you
For hours by the well
In my memory, I remember you still
In my memory I can still see the eyes
In my memory
I can still feel your touch
I remember talkin' with you
The stories I could tell
In my memory, I remember you still

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

night stories and the meaning of things

dreams, as in the ones you have when asleep, are funny things. there are whole areas of study created to try and understand them. in the ancient near eastern traditions they are a means for God to speak but must also be interpreted by another person. it is the ability to interpret dreams that offers joseph out of jail and leads to him becoming the second in command in egypt. many of the prophets are given visions or dreams, peter learns that gentiles are acceptable to God via a dream about food and the greatly misread text revelation was reveal to john in a dream. through out history dreams have been means of information and guidance for people and cultures.

 through out my life dreams and visions have filtered in and out often in a very emotionally vivid way. i had had dreams that emotionally effected me for days. last night i had two very different dreams that i am still being haunted by and don't really understand the meaning yet. the first was being with a girl scout troop trying to make chocolate chip cookies...some how i was roped in this confectionery effort. the deal was that we had too many chocolate chips and not enough of everything else for dough...everyone kept suggesting we just eat the chocolate until there was enough only for the cookies. as someone who is not eating sugar or chocolate at this time the whole idea was such a great challenge to avoid the sugar and chocolate...which come to think of it might be at least part of the the dreams meaning. also it could represent the things that i want and can't have right now.

the second dream took place in a campus apartment of some kind. two of my former roommates, who are happily married with three kids, were there and it seemed we were all living together. which is fine and dandy...except for the fact that mike my old roommate had some how gotten a pet snake. it was a little characterish thing but snakes freak me out. he kept promising that it would be fine and was nothing to be frightened of...maybe i should share a bit of the shrimp i had with the snake like you would give a dog to  let them warm up to you. so i braved the fears and did. with each bite the snake got bigger and closer and then it began to jump. it jumped up to the loft area of the apartment we were in and that is when i woke up in a mild terror. i do not like snakes. i have not idea what this one means?

but that is the interesting thing about dreams sometimes their meaning is clear and other times it is completely from left field and makes not sense. whether or not meaning full dreams are always and interesting expression of the subconscious come to image and life for a time in one's head.


wandering through photos tonight i came across an ancient one of my mother in college or high school. a knife stuck in my heart and filled with ache. i miss my momma. while still here in glimmers and glimpses mostly the ghost of her remains. i have now lived a over a third of my life without my mother's full and beautiful presence in my life. at nineteen because of a freak snowstorm, the wise and funny and scare and insecure women of my childhood and teenage years flew the coup and left in her stead a child-like and handicapped person. all the ways i had to relate to her besides just physical presence were gone...words and ideas and stories no longer were our shared language. we could sit and draw together and for that i am thankful but the other was gone without a trace.

as i move closer to my 32nd birthday, content and happy, yet still with the sometimes desire for children and the hope of eventually finding a life partner i think about my mother. i think about all of the things i have yet to experience that she is unable to share. i think about all of the things that i have experienced that she has also been unable to share. wonder still what, if i do have children, they will think of their grandmother and what stories i will tell them of her. of the time she was so angry with ian and i that she drew a picture of her with smoke and fire coming out and how that defused it all. how every time one of us got in trouble, after spanking or sending us to our room she would come crying and apologize for anything she has said out of frustration or anger and reminding us beyond any doubt how very very much she loved us. how hard it was for her to over come fear and perfectionism and yet she did over and over again. or the time when i was seven or eight and with my dad as he was at a church event the video or slides he had taken of my mom dancing came up and made me cry because she was so beautiful and at peace when she danced.

there are so many days i wish i could have her back or could have one more conversation like we used to and ask all of those questions that come up in my mind from time to time. but i can't so i will recall the stories i remember will read the things she wrote...someday get the children's story she wrote and illustrated for me published if only for my own children...and most of all love her fully for who she is. because it hurts and aches but i am thankful for it all.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

caught (NFTPL #55)

caught between opposing desires it's hard at times for my heart to find rest. it makes sense i was born on one of those days between star-signs...half virgin half lioness. i want stability and i want to wander like a gypsy on the road and over oceans and seas. the paths i have chosen don't always seem to fit my heart's desires. everything feels conflicting, my reality is constantly changing and morphing into something new. i want to be mutually bound to the heart of another and i want to be free. i want motherhood and singleness...i want this man and i want to run away. i want this shirt, no wait do i really want this shirt.  it's always a tension it's always a question...rarely is anything ever clear....well somethings are clear like faith and God, the music of brmc, the black ryder, ryan adams and the need to create.

yet i always want to do so much and be apart of so many beautiful things that it is hard for me to focus. i wonder if it is because i haven't yet come to the thing, you know that things that just jumps out and says "yes" this is exactly you fully who you were created and made for or maybe i was made to wander and travel and experience life on a wild ride of trust and risk. so much of this past year and a half has been risking, stepping out, being bold and trusting that where i walk a path or net will be provided...and it has. i have been so blessed with dreams realized, opportunities given and unexpected surprises offered. that being caught between what seems to be opposite desires isn't looking like such a bad thing after all.

searching for fire..

i stumble in the dark looking for what will burn me hard and bright. standing here in the shadows i have waited for that which will spark with my heart igniting it so that i cannot walk away. this life of mine has sat on the sidelines hoping and begging and musing for someone who was inspiring the greatness and the wildness that lurks in my heart's shadows.

to find fire is possible and to find encouragement is possible but to encounter that perfect chemistry of fire that burns long and bright is a hard task in deed. fire that at first is good can burn too bright and threaten to consume or fire that starts well can easily go out...the kind of fire that has lasting light must burn hot enough and steady with flashes of the light.

shall i light a pyrite and burn my soul to garner the attention of the fire starter? the one who can light my fire as it were. or shall i douse myself in water over and over again like elijah calling on God to show just how powerful God is in the face of lies and false prophets? they strain their voices and bleed themselves as the goddess stood silent...and God burned water drenched alter in it's entirety to ash.

marked i am a live coal waiting for paper and wood to turn my smoldering embers into a roaring blaze. already i shoot through the sky like a star in falling flight to be wished on may and might...yet when he which bares the same marking steps into the woods all around will be consumed in the light of our mutual flames.

Monday, August 15, 2011

needs and loss

being at a bar on a friday or saturday night is like watching an an auction from the sidelines....especially if you are going out in hollywood. in the sea of people 80% are there to get seen, hook up or find a shallow form of connection in the hope that it will become something real. across internet site and bar stools and church pews we all are searching for our mystical other half or at least a warm body for the night. a search for that other person who despite all the work one can finally say "yes" i love you more than i hate the way you talk during sex, the way you eat your apple, the way you write your checks or what-have-you. at the core we are all made for relationship for that deep connection with another person. it's rooted in our stories and myths and religions. a major part of being human it the desire to be in intimate relationship with another share life together with someone.

tonight at the "beauty bar" which is set up like a salon and offers manicure and martini specials...the majority of the crowd were men. which was interesting because i really don't think they were there for a manicure! but what i found really interesting was watching all of the people coming in...there were very few couples...most of the people there at this bar were there to meet someone. yet no one in the whole three hours i was there nursing my dirty vodka martini and chatting with my friend wendy over the dj's eights mix did that i could tell "meet someone". it was like being back in seattle where everyone is single but very few people approach another person for a date. i watched as men looked around and tried to interact with the various groups of single women but didn't. this i think is honestly the first night i have been out to a bar in los angeles where i haven't seen anyone hooking up or connecting. it was very odd.

the whole energy too was that of unmet expectations and desires...most of the patrons were dressed up to impress, many of the girls wearing four in heels that i kept fearing they would fall and break something in and tight and super revealing outfits that would be more suited for las vegas than los angeles. yet even with all this plumage there was a serious lack of connection happening.

after leaving and passing several other bars, with lines of people waiting to get in, i thought a lot about what the atmosphere of these kinds of nights are what it is that people are looking for...i also thought about some of the cultural theory work i am reading for my research paper. one of the theorists was talking about part of the freedom of sexuality post 1960's was about the freedom of risk that women take by owning their sexuality. that we are to be aware of the possibility of harm that could come when moving outside the bounds of protection and care of the previous structures that guarded female sexuality. what a risk it is to open one's self up to another person....especially one who you are going on a blind date with or meet somewhere like a bar. you have no context for knowing this person or who they are and yet we willingly trust this dynamic.

it's all very interesting to me. this idea that we have culturally it's most easily expressed in dating rituals but comes in many forms, what i am talking about it the choice of instants in the hope of substance. we do it with food too...take popcorn i know silly but hear me out. i am a purest when it comes to popcorn unlike my roommate i will always choose stove cooked popcorn to microwave given the choice. while microwave takes only two minutes or less to cook and stove popped takes a whopping four to six minutes more the pay off i believe is way better. i think so often these days with the instant accessibility of things we forget that the "for the time being" things often inhibit our ability and desire for the real. like getting a quick snack at a fast food joint can take the place in a really depressing way of my desire for substabtial food. often when driving home from a late class i will grab a quick snack only to get home to a lovely meal and be too full to have it. i feel like bar dating is often like the quick snack at least in most circumstances....i do know one couple who were successful in their bar-met pairing but they also knew each other as friends for over  a year before they got together so it wasn't really the same thing.

lastly let me say i am not passing judgement on this action just asking or thinking critically about it...lord knows that more often than not my dating stories are the comic relief that i offer up to others about how much worse their experiences could have been. just recently i went on four dates with a man who is most likely still involved with his ex or maybe still wife before the red flags hit me in the face...yeah that's another story for another time.

over all i just find the whole dynamic of need and loss and desire and half filled need interesting and odd especially in light of some of the things i am reading currently working on a paper about God, sexuality and gender.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

this is what i want for you

you wrestle with God and the devil day in and day out...healing is your deepest fear and your secret heart's desire. i watch as you try to do the job for the latter working your damnedest to destroy what is good in your so that the lie you live will be true. walking close to light your fear strikes out trying to harm what you most fear. i want you to find life, to have your battled and shattered heart restored to the beauty and power it was made for. my friend you have been created for more than this, the slow destruction of your self. you were created for such glory and truth telling, yet you allow the dark angels to eat away at your heart and soul. the demonic snacks on you like's that terrible ache when you are crying alone begging for this to be over. their tongues roll over you sucking the life and the light, they mean to leave you a hollow shelled bag of your worst fears; alone, unloved, unremarkable, and voiceless. this is not you dear, this is not who you are. you are wise and wild and tender-hearted you love to offer care to others, spilling art all over the place so that as many as possible can hear and see and know. tell the vampiric dark angels for once and all be gone...allow beauty and truth and light to enter in a heal the hurts and will always remember that's not the question it is the question of will you live and choose life.

i hope the music and the love and the light will finally touch you deep enough to move that stubborn wolf-heart to the man he was created to be with out fear or loss but rather stepping into the marking that has existed since the time you were created forth. choose good my friend please choose good.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

about being naked....

for many women part of their body acceptance is the realization that they are beautiful when they are naked. so many of us have grown up with deep shame and hatred for our bodies...told from a young age that what we look like is not acceptable in the mark. this is a lie but one that is fully ingested, just turn on the television and watch a half hour of any show with women on it...most likely at least once in that period of time something will come up about the female character's body insecurities.

this fear of our naked bodies is linked to many things which if it were not three in the morning i could clearly lay out and express but it is so...yeah there is this fear. what i find interesting and what struck me as i was reading through blogs before bed...what that when the fear of acceptance, beauty, and nakedness is in the process or has been over come, especially by women who are out of the perceived norm, there is a tendency to get naked often and almost in a an extreme. it's very much a fuck you i'm beautiful attitude that  comes into play. this is what intrigues me about this whole reversal...the idea of going from one extreme to another. it's hard to just hold the knowledge that "i am acceptable and loving" but it's like one needs to prove that in a visceral and tangible way. maybe it's a kin to the wallflower who suddenly finds her self with the quarter back or what-have-you and feels the need to flaunt her boyfriend because he embodies the whole of what was seen as impossible to her. those places where we have been wounded the most also can lead to over emphasis...

anyway three am brief thoughts about nakedness

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

blessing the prodigal

it's a beautiful and hard things to care for allow your heart to be like God's and open to relationship even when it means being hurt. this week my lovely cousin annette mentioned the story of the prodigal son (luke 15:11-32) as we talked about loving people, raising children, choices and condemnation.   she reminded me that when the son leaves he is blessed and when he returns he is blessed by the father. the same father who he essentially said f-off and die to by asking for his inheritance. if the father represents God in the story and the call is to be like God then what i now see in this parable is the idea of blessing when ever one choose to enter back into relationship and rejoicing that the wandering one has found home.

yet too often my response can look more like the older brother who has stayed...bitter and jaded because of "doing what's right" and feeling that the "rightness" deserves a special blessing. which doesn't come, in spite of the fact that he all which is there is under the older siblings command, and being mad that the one who "screwed up" is getting all that you have desired.

part of loving others is letting them like the prodigal son walk their own path...allowing them to go to the places where they will encounter their need for God (home) and choose to come back in whatever humble means they can because home is far better than where they are at. this is one of the hardest things to do in life...wait for those you love to hit rock bottom so to speak. this looks different for me than it does for my brother or my best friend. for some it means just touching their toe into the waters for others it means swimming while profusely bleeding in heavily shark infested waters, yet what i know beyond a shadow of a doubt is that everyone has the chance to get out of rock bottom but the catch is they must admit that they are there. it's like rehab or therapy , it only works when you are willing and commit to being honest with your self and others who are walking with you.  also having lived and been around a several people suffering from addictions what doesn't work is condemning and shaming someone who is an addict they are all ready have bucket loads of this in themselves they don't need it from others. love with boundaries are good for you and as a byproduct that is good too.

as i think about the story of the prodigal gives me great hope...this God that i believe and trust my life to is one who desperately desires to embrace and bless all the prodigal children...all of creation which is God's good, very good creation...the restoration of the whole of creation as prodigal children of the first and truest Creator is the hope of life!

Monday, August 08, 2011


everything feels prickly and i am tired and want to rage like a three year old. i want to throw a damned tantrum and yell things like "this is stupid" and "i hate this" and "MOMMY", stamp my feet, hit things and throw stuffed animals and fall on a wet heap on my bed tired and spent. mostly i just want to crawl in a corner and run away from the world. i'm not scared so much as jaded and disturbed....what the f says my logical sense how could this happen and why did you let it? anger is bubbling just below the surface.
does my anger come from hurt, feeling like a fool, or from knowing someone else is right...and if the latter why? is it a control issue? i don't like to not know things i don't like to be treated like i don't know things. does the not knowing make me feel like a child and foolish?

my brain runs in mobius strip like circles around and around searching for answers and just wanting out. the anger sits on my chest like a cat...moving up and down with my breath. i don't want to be responsible i don't want to have to fix things i just want it now says my heart....because i am scared, terrified really that this emptiness and disassociation is as close as i will get to the heart of want i want. maybe i am just broken and not meant for this treasured desire that i have guarded and wanted for so many many years. i want tears to come but only the craving for destruction. i feel like the idiot on display here for everyone's amusement... well at least she has interesting stories, they are heartbreaking when you really listen but funny if you miss that. oh well right i laugh it off as i sit in my fears.

i need change i need GOD i need hope long lost....

something tells me this isn't right sir

today was about ownership and responsibility. God kept telling me something and i wasn't listening...until i saw a half hidden pink bath robe and it all became so very clear. well maybe not clear but things that seemed off and kept adding up funny fell into a kind of place. i don't know yet if i am right in my conclusion but part of me doesn't really care that much. with a cigarette and cool night air my brain says "no" and my heart's decided to go off line for a while, no that's not right rather it's hiding back in the castle waiting for the prince instead of standing with the gates wide open.

i think i have a bad picker, i can't seem to get relationships right. as part of growth and entering into my full humanity i need to own that. when sweetness and kindness and other lovely things came in i didn't receive them. then oddity and abuse enters and i'm like great let's go, until someone pulls me off the ride and show me my ravaged features from a week of play. so i don't like that ride i think. and then another one appears and it seems like the goodness and kindness and  the whatnot that i am looking for yet it has skeletons hidden and unlike the first ride they are harder to spot. but again i spot them and get off. this time i find that singleness, becoming a nun may not be such a bad thing. everyone else around me is able to do this  relationship thing and make it work. i can't, so since i can't seem to get the ride right i'm not gonna play...."i'm taking my toys and heading home" for now i am letting go of dreams and desires for love and marriage or even a decent boyfriend. my mistrust level has hit over load, i take ownership of the things i can't control and the things i can and with all of this in mind i say i'm outta here.

maybe tomorrow i will want to play...maybe tomorrow someone who is healthy and doesn't lie will walk in the door but for now i think i have to leave the party and the pool and the bar. i need to sit in a field and figure out why i am where i am at....the goodness of theses experiences and fairground rides is that i am trusting my gut and listening to myself and those around me who love me....i especially treasure those who love me.