Hold on to Your F~ing Hat

This month I feel like I popped an Annuale.

My anxiety and frustration feel volcanic.

Doesn’t help that I cleaned someone’s home yesterday and over polished their copper sinks. They look like shiny new pennies and the home owners seemed pissed. I can’t stop thinking about it. They are literally being blinded by their sinks every time they brush their teeth. I need to put an end to cleaning million dollar homes……..I can’t handle the stress of fucking up.

Sounds so petty with all that’s going on in the world.

I tried a glass of wine last night. My first since Ketamine. It made things worse. I’m kind of glad as it will keep me from going back to 2 drinks a night.

Gotta ride out the storm and deal with my crazy. This too shall pass.

A Little Chat About Hormones

Photo by me

Hormones. The struggle is real.

Understanding what they are doing, when they are doing it is helpful.

I use The Hormone Horoscope App by Hormonolgy. It gives me a rundown of each day of my cycle. Here is an article from their web page about each week and what hormones are up to.

I’ve always struggled with PMS, and as I got older, felt very strongly it’s not an excuse for distasteful behavior.

I feel it’s my responsibility to understand my body and then work with it.

It’s also my responsibility to keep the people I live with informed.

Currently, my progesterone is on the rise. For me it causes sensory overload. I can literally see sounds. Being touched feels traumatizing. I feel the intensity rise until I’m completely underwater.

All I want is to lay in a fluffy cloud of comfort with salty foods and a cake on the side.

This is also the week where my mind betrays me. Negative thoughts feel brazen and rampant.

I’m aware and on the lookout. I take frequent timeouts because I know it’s merely my hormones and I don’t truly feel the way my mind thinks.

I meditate more. Focus on my breath more, in an attempt to tame the fiery ball of rage rolling in my gut.

Ok, time to go desensitize in a fluffy cloud.

Be well and stay safe………….someone near you may have the progesterone virus……….

There Are No Experts

Photo by me

I came across a poem I wrote last January when I was in the throes of a deep depression.

I was suicidal for a good 3 months. The darkness was so thick it made everything black. Looking back at these words, I can see there was a distant hope that I couldn’t feel at the time:

“Peaceful corner ~ My fragility in an envelope of down.

Piano music ~ a remembrance that I live ~ a distant depth ~ I am not the blackness

I am every color ~ every emotion ~every language ~ humanness ~ Spirit connected

Depression is stillness ~ Stillness is beauty ~ stillness bears hope ~ rounding the corner ~ the fog will dissipate ~ a first breath ~ cells creeping from their coma ~ hang on Mare for nothing can last forever

I honestly don’t know what lifted it. I remember thinking “Who will take care of the cat if I kill myself?” Little 4 legged friend who found us just 2 months prior to the depression.

Cricket

I can remember being depressed as a teenager.

I remember downing an entire bottle of aspirin. I didn’t know how to ask for help.

Last winter I knew to ask for help. To share what I was going though. There were some who avoided me like a disease, others who shared their own experiences, and some who gave me blank stares.

Depression is real. Just because you aren’t feeling it at the present moment does not mean it itsn’t. Maybe you’re one of the few who’ve never felt it, I urge you to be compassionate and understanding.

I’ll leave you with a few lines from Gary Zukav’s “The Seat of the Soul” as I find these words both beautiful and wise:

Who among us is an expert on the human experience? We have only the gift of sharing perceptions that hopefully can help those on their journey. There is no such thing as an expert on the human experience. The human experience is an experience in movement and thought and form, and in some cases an experiment in movement and thought and form. The most that we can do is comment on the movement, the thought and the form, but those comments are of great value if they can help people to learn to move gracefully, to think clearly, to form – like artists- the matter of their lives.

My New Addiction

I’m addicted.

Thank you Eileen for this incredible idea.

Eileen is an energy healer, and her blog is like reading a novel you don’t want to put down. Head to her homepage and read her fascinating story on how she became a healer.

Jase’s girls are here while their school is closed and this has been the perfect activity for us. We don’t notice the hours go by. The other night we painted through the dinner hour. That will certainly keep us from running out of food, hahaha!

Yesterday was a bit rough as my youngest son celebrated his 16th birthday in Illinois. It’s a challenge to not feel like a shit mother, him living so far away. The dialogue in my brain is murderous.

I used to make him loaves of the best banana bread on his bday. He sent a text asking for the recipe. His dad’s girlfriend had made some, and in my son’s exact words “it’s drier than the desert.”

Breaks my heart into a million pieces and punches a hole in my gut that will never be filled. 16 years old and he still wants mom’s banana bread. Did he have to make it himself after I sent the recipe?

Life can throw us a few unforeseen punches, can it not? I chose to leave the Midwest after getting divorced. I’ve asked many times if I should move back and every time my son’s reply “No mom, coming to visit gives me something to look forward too.”

Long story short, I couldn’t afford to bring him with me and his dad would never allow it.

So, in the midst of the pain, gratitude cuddles up next to it. Thankful we have maintained a relationship. Thankful to be close to all 4 of my boys although I’m no longer with their father.

Pain and gratitude co-exist in the same heart.

They must, there is no other way.

Take Time To Smell The Flowers

Hello everyone, it’s me Kasu. *Jase’s daughter 🙂

Have you ever taken time to just think? It can be hard to do with so much on our plate. Even if you aren’t doing anything, you just feel to busy. As a moody teenager, it always feels hard to so, but sometimes I like to just lay down, relax, and think. When you take time to think you may realize, have I made the best decisions? Have I been doing what I should be? How long has it been since i last had fun? Have I done the stuff on my bucket list yet? As the everyday person, we never want to push our limits, never want to step out of our box, never want to stop. Maybe it’s time to change that?

Here is what I want you to do, try something that relaxes you. Sometimes we may not know what relaxes us and if that’s the case then maybe you shloud try and find out. Today I got paint rocks with my dad, my sister, and Mare. I sat there for 3 hours letting my imagination run wild (but still calm of course). Maybe you like sports or drawing, whatever the case though, make some time to do that. To enjoy and relax yourself!

Take A Moment To Breathe

Photo by me

Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know
Through the world we safely go.

Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.

Auguries of Innocence William Blake read the entire poem here

Couldn’t have said it better myself.

I hope you are well and embracing the creation of new normals.

May you breathe deeply and feel peace for a moment.

Each of us have differing circumstances among the similarity of the whole.

From our home to yours we send light and love.

Post Ketamine Puzzle

Photo by me, I especially love the cat hair lol

Shazam! I need a break from the beer virus.

It’s been 4 days since my last Ketamine infusion and I’m noticing some delightful things.

I’m sitting here in jeans and a flannel.

This is a big WTF moment.

My WHOLE life, when at home, it’s pj’s all day, no exceptions, sick or not. I used to think people were nuts being at home in everyday street clothes. Jase has known me just shy of 4 years and he can testify to the many times I would look at him and feel scratchy because he was on the couch in jeans.

Today, I was dying to get out of my cozies and into clothing. I also put on some jewelry and braided my hair.

Another thing is I haven’t drank any alcohol.

I had 4 infusions and was tripping balls for 4 days straight, no alcohol needed.

Post ketamine, I don’t want any. Many WTF moments. I’m not a huge drinker but was having at least 2 drinks per night………and maybe a weeee bit more on Sunday’s…….mimosas!

I feel motivated and energetic. I have walked a mile outside each day since the infusions. 2 of those walks were pain free! The other 2 not so much, but that’s ok.

With the nature of my jobs I get about 25 to 35 hours a WEEK of light to moderate to intense exercise. I think the base recommendation is 3.5 hours a week……anyhoo I’m happy to be feeling like doing something other than nursing my wounds during my down time.

My brain can’t pick up it’s old thinking patterns. It doesn’t feel like ruminating on anything. Having cleaned a home yesterday, my body is feeling some discomfort but my mind is saying “who the fuck cares! Life is too short to think about it.”

I’ll meet with the CBT therapist this week if the beer virus doesn’t cancel the appointment. I’m looking forward to picking his brain about ways to keep my own brain headed in this direction.

There’s a lightness to my thinking. I’m not sure if my mind has ever felt this relaxed.

Everyone responds differently to ketamine. So far I’m enjoying the ride.

I Have The Answer: Pet Ass Wipes, Thank You Coronavirus

Holy. Shit.

There are ass wipes for cats and dogs.

If you’re like Jase and I, you aren’t hoarding paper products and wipes.

If you are hoarding them, shame on you. We currently have 4 rolls of toilet paper and 1 roll of paper towels in our home.

We went to do our NORMAL grocery shopping and there’s no fucking toilet paper. Not even on line.

I’m generally a pretty laid back and forgiving gal: but there are people hoarding toilet paper and selling it online for ridiculous prices. That’s shitty, which is what my underwear will be because someone’s trying to make a quick buck off human suffering.

Well, I can think outside of the box and still try to help the economy instead of rob my fellow man.

Yep, I bought ass wipes for pets and you can too because people we live on this earth with forgot how to share. I assure you the dogs and cats of this world will not mind a shortage in wipes, they have perfectly good tongues.

We went with the Pogi’s plant based wipes. They are listed as “grooming wipes”. For those of you feeling crass there are Glandex anal gland pet wipes and are a bit more expensive.

Have fun searching online, there are plenty of brands! If not for the coronavirus and the selfishness of others we’d never know such a product existed. Thank you coronavirus.

Bloom Baby Bloom: Ketamine Day 4

Saw this beauty before my infusions started…spring!

I slipped and fell on my way to the car at 6 am yesterday.

It had been raining and the deck looked wet. It was pure ice and I went down hard on my right side. It’s laughable really. Headed to Ketamine to treat pain. All one can do is laugh.

With traffic we drove close to 2 hours to the clinic that had hijacked my infusion. They are affiliated with my original clinic. Lo and behold they are in the middle of a move as well.

Miss cranky pants with the yellow aura from my second infusion was there. I could feel her embarrassment when she saw us and I didn’t want it to turn into hardness. At the end of this infusion as I was coming out of it I was determined to speak with her. With my numb face I called to her: Jeminifer….ib yer nabe jeminifer? She came and spoke with us for a long while and she’s quite lovely. I told her about her aura, yellow is joyful and intelligent and felt relieved to look her in the eye and exchange a genuine smile. We found out she has 5 children…….well fuck, no wonder she was in a shit mood the other day.

I had a new doctor. His aura was gray and murky but not scary. I could feel his overwhelming confusion toward life. The gal at the front desk was brimming with pure white light and was a delight.

And my Jase was purple. He’s not a fan of the color purple. Well too fucking bad, purple suits him quite well.

So that’s that. I had 4 infusions this week increasing from 200 mg to 400 mg. And now I wait. They say it can take a couple weeks to see the full effect.

I’m pleased that the primary emotion I felt all week was overwhelming love for myself and for others.

Outwardly life as I know it has not changed, inwardly I know it has.

I’ll leave you with this:

“Before enlightenment; chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment; chop wood, carry water.” — Zen Kōan

Kick Up Your Heels: Ketamine

If you’re new to this journey, today is the 4th Ketamine infusion for pain relief. Welcome to the ride!

Today we are driving an hour and a half as my infusion was sent to the wrong clinic. I am listening to the above song to calm my nerves and open my heart. I am anxious about being in a new space with staff that I don’t know.

Akaal Literal meaning is a timeless being, intelligent and caring

I can’t help but wonder if they’ve been warned about Jase and I! Have they been filled in on my constant talking and laughing while under Ketamine? Are they ready for the outpouring of love headed to their clinic?

That being said I am energetic and excited.

I TOOK A PAIN FREE WALK OUTSIDE YESTERDAY!!!!! MY LEGS WERE WOBBLY BUT MY MIND WANTED TO RUN. RUN……RUN….RUN….I FELT LIGHT AND FREE….THE WORLD SEEMED NEW AND FRESH.

Hope you all have an enlightened day…….I’m off to the land of love and laughter and hopefully no vomit.

I See Your Aura’s And I Love The World: Ketamine Day 3

I’m a wee bit disappointed. I’m supposed to be at my 4th ketamine treatment right now. Somehow lines got crossed and they sent my ketamine to the wrong clinic. It’s against the law to transfer it once delivered. We are waiting to hear what to do and where to go.

The long and short of it is the clinic is in the middle of a move. They’ve been in their current location for 6 months and they are a bit of a cluster fuck. Having gone there 3 days in a row, peeled back the layers of just how dis organized they are.

We got there at 7:40 as asked and my infusion didn’t begin until 8:15. They were unpacking boxes and rewiring the front desk computers. There were 2 new people and one was in a foul ass mood, which triggered my anxiety. Jase had to step outside to calm his frustration and I sat in the waiting room meditating on opening my heart space and not hyperventilating.

We were then told another patient would be having a treatment in the same room as me. Considering how much I talked during my first 2 infusions this worried me.

I have veins like Boba tea straws so they hooked me up first, and during the insertion, the woman in the foul mood stuck her head in and stated “This is the last ketamine infusion this week. They sent it all to the Aurora clinic and we don’t know when the next shipment will be.”

Well, that is poor bedside manner.

As I was slipping into la la land, they were hooking up my suite mate and her veins kept collapsing.

In the meantime I’m telling everyone what color aura they have. My doctors was light pink, crabby lady was yellow, the gals at the front desk were bright blue and light blue, I just wanted everyone to have a good day and to just be nice.

I then proceeded to talk about how much I love the world and if everyone would just be kind it would solve all the problems. To top it off I began to sob for the world, I was so sad for it. Jase was able to calm me down by telling me the world was ok and then I passed out for the remainder of the treatment.

Once at home I ate an entire box of mac and cheese and passed out. I woke up and watched the Taylor Swift documentary…..what????? I know maybe 2 of her songs……and then passed out again until morning.

It’s been a wild week thus far. It’s nice to know I love the world and all of it’s inhabitants. If Jase had any doubts about my love for him they have dissolved into trauma over how much I actually do love him. He’s probably scared shitless and ready to run for the hills……….

A Chocolatey Chippy Marshmallow Ride: Ketamine Day 2

All I know about yesterday is I didn’t get sick. There was no vomit. I listened to calm piano music this time as I felt the voices in the meditations yesterday really fucked with my head. Lesson learned.

Jase was nice enough to take videos of me pretending to be our cat Cricket, another of me talking about everything being mint chocolate chip marshmallows, my son Archie and I taking a ride and he said I asked about the kids every 30 seconds for an hour straight.

At one point Jase felt like hooking himself up to my I.V. just to deal with my excessive rambling about how much I loved everyone.

I slept the rest of the day. Today I feel very out of it. We are heading out for the 3rd treatment soon.

As far as helping with the pain, not a clue, I feel like a floating body.

I miss reading everyone’s blogs, hope all is well and thank you for reading and for your support. It means a lot.

A Tripped Out Love Fest: Ketamine Day One

photo by me

Fear not! I went poop before my first Ketamine infusion. If you’ve been following along, that makes sense.

When I arrived at the pain clinic, they had me take an anti~nausea and anti~anxiety.

The young gal assigned to hooking me up to the EKG and blood pressure cuff consulted her phone incessantly for tips on where to place the EKG leads. WHAT???!!!!!!

The I.V. was inserted by the doc, and thanks to my cooperative veins, was a cinch. The doc seemed alarmingly relieved.

Once hooked up, I got cozy with my pillows, Jase popped on the Bose headphones and I went for a tripped out ride.

My body gradually felt warm, and numb. I couldn’t tell whether my eyes were open or closed and began to see what can only be described as shape shifting sandy landscapes in the color of deep purple. At times I felt upside down or as if my chair was floating through the ceiling. It was oddly comforting. I couldn’t feel a negative emotion.

I recall being filled with so much love I thought I was going to burst. I wanted everyone to know I loved them. Jase said I kept asking for his hand and that I was yelling out loving things. I remember asking about all the kids and wanting them to know I loved them. Fear not! Jase will write a post from his point of view in the future.

About 2 hours in my blood pressure went through the roof and I had to pee. That is something I’d like to avoid during todays treatment. Jase had to hold me on the toilet and wipe for me…….thank goodness I got all my pooping done before the treatment.

Four hours felt like 5 minutes, but a long 5 minutes. At the end I began sweating profusely and felt extremely nauseous. As soon as I got outside I had to vomit.

The 45 minute ride home is a blur. Jase carried me inside and again had to vomit. I slept till about 3, had some applesauce and crackers then back in bed till 6.

I watched a cooking show, ate some soup and went back to bed.

Anxious about round 2 today……..waiting to poop. Jase is a trooper for staying with me through 4 hours of la la land. His presence there was the most comforting feeling I’ve ever experienced. I remember wanting to hug him forever and kept telling him how much I loved him.

Hey Hey Hey It’s Ketamine Time

photo by me

Holy hell.

Ketamine infusions begin today and go through Thursday.

8 am till noon.

Four hours, four days in a row.

I put together a 4 hour playlist of meditations on healing along with healing sounds.

I figure why not become a partner with the Ketamine. Welcome it into this vessel known as my body. Come on in and rewire my nervous system, please and thank you. I promise I’ve been meditating, focusing on my breath, and training my brain to work though the pain. Welcome to the party, Ketamine, do your thing!

I’ve been wide awake since 3:30 am. It’s now 5:30. I spent the last 2 hours laughing at old videos of the kids and Jase going all the way back to 2016. I was mostly pain free and a bundle of energy. The pain has been a silent phantom slowly making itself a member of the family.

Sipping on coffee and heavy whipping cream (yes, it is sin in a mug) I’m imagining waking up and moving through the day without a burning sensation in every muscle and joint. Without tingling and numbness through my body. Trying to remember what it feels like to move effortlessly.

I’m also hoping I can relax enough to poop before we have to leave. Shut up, everyone poops and we all feel better after a good one, and I certainly don’t need to drag a ketamine I.V. into the shitter along with a nurse making sure I can wipe my ass while in a psychedelic frame of mind………or god forbid fall off the toilet and crack my head on the toilet paper dispenser.

Anyhoo, I’ll try to post my experiences over the next few days. Hoping for embarrassment free infusions……..fingers crossed……

Sloshy Gratitude

photo by me

Our lives are made up of numerous journeys. Together they make a whole.

Look upon others. Pause. Consider the chapters with in their lives. The chapters in your own life.

What chapter are you in dear reader?

Is the pen in your hand or do you feel as if it’s in another’s?

Both?

Focus on your breath, inhabit your body. Appreciate all that you are.

Dip into the well of gratitude. Don’t be stingy.

Fill it so that it sloshes as you carry it, soaking your feet, leaving imprints of gratitude in the places you travel. Share it with others.

Today, as you catch yourself holding your breath or tensing your shoulders against the heaviness, focus on one breath and remember you matter.

Ranty McRanter

Photo by me while driving.

Split personality?

Wrestling with how to live what you know?

Caught of guard by emotions that bubble up and words that fly from your lips………especially after you’ve taken the time to do your “inner work”?

In my minds eye I see heavy chains with impossible pad locks. The feeling of being bound sounds like static in my brain.

There’s a knowing beating in my heart. It sends out hope from the deep recess of my soul.

This knowing holds the key to the padlocks.

LET GO……….LET GO…….LET GO…….LET GO……

The picture above was taken a few days ago on my way to work. I’ve been hungrily gnawing at the truth that Spirit is not separate from us.

It is us.

There is no Santa Claus in the sky handing out party favors to the well behaved saints and laughing at others who are groveling in the dirt begging to be plucked from scarcity.

What sort of madness have we been taught as children? To believe in a Higher Power that we must bargain with, behave for, and serve….……………A Power that we are separate from? A Power that pooped us into existence and said “Figure out how to live. If you happen to get it right, there’s a reward for you in the end. ”

I could type for years about the misguided rot we’ve been spoon fed. It’s churning in my gut, curdling into a mass that is worthy of the sewer.

There is nothing any of us can do to become worthy of life. We already are.

Focus On What You CAN DO

Photo by me

There’s a list in your mind of what you have to do, want to do, should do etc etc etc

As humans we are familiar with brain sludge and feeling like there’s not enough time to get it all done.

Through illness I’ve learned to write down what I have done.

It’s less oppressive to fill a page in your own time frame than to have an already full page of tasks you may or may not have the ability to get to.

It gives you a feeling of capability.

Focusing on what you can do, is the equipment needed to navigate the ever changing landscape of an unpredictable illness.

Transitioning from land to water.

The above is my 16 year old son focused on what he can do with the right equipment.

Reminds me of possibilities.

Reminds me to focus on what I can do and not on what I’ve lost.

I’m Friggin Rich

Photo by me

Though I have yet to find a pot of gold and dance wildly with leprechauns, sighting a rainbow is a magical event.

On second thought………….

There are two pots of gold across from me on the couch. I call them Jase and Cricket. Well, sometimes I call them asshole and turd ferguson.

I found many pots of gold at my retail job today in my co-workers and customers whom I can joke and laugh with.

AND in the conversation with a bestie almost 1,000 miles away on my drive in.

Come to think of it, another pal in Arizona that messaged me I’ll be getting a book Monday and another who consistently checks in on me.

AND my eldest son and his girlfriend brought us pizza and tiramisu on Sunday along with completing a 1,000 piece jig saw puzzle with us.

Of course I have to mention we are all wealthier with blogs from : Kate, Goldie, Robin, V, Pooja G, Kacha, Ashley and so many more!

Holy Shit, I’m fucking RICH………oh wait……there’s no leprechauns…..

Clean Out The Ears in Your Heart

photo by me

Well hey there faith.

You look a little cold, a bit buried under the snow, as if you might be hibernating.

Your faith is in your hands. It belongs to you and is your responsibility.

Your soul is at the center. It is without time, place or circumstance. It is eternal. Infinite……………..connected to source energy.

Letting go of all you think you know is the most important “task” you will ever accomplish.

Do you hear it?

The quiet whisper?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Act without doing;
Work without effort.
Think of the small as large
and the few as many.
Confront the difficult
While it is still easy;
accomplish the great task
by a series of small acts.

The Master never reaches for the great;
thus he achieves greatness.
When he runs into a difficulty,
He stops and gives himself to it.
He doesn’t cling to his own comfort;
thus problems are no problem for him.

Tao Te Ching, 63

Fur The Love Of The Herd

Thanks fur the laughs my freinds

We had the pleasure of running into these lovely ladies on a drive today.

I needed to get out of the house and my head. Needed a break from pain and fatigue.

After driving though a manicured subdivision, this unlikely herd was just what I needed to pull me out of the spiral I started to drown in at the sight of more construction. For fuck’s sake, let’s not go there.

I’ve never fit into a manicured lifestyle.

When I was married and raising my family I made every attempt to look like I belonged there, but in my heart I longed for the unkept herd with the patchy fur and bad haircuts.

The herd not afraid to lick their nostrils with their tongue, instead of those fenced in by societies expectations.

The herd not afraid to let the grass grow wild because that meant more wild flowers, instead of those afraid of what the HOA and the neighbor’s would think.

There’s nothing wrong with any lifestyle, but it can feel all wrong if you’re not where you’re meant to be.

Hell, I have a son who felt like an alien in his body and he’s doing something about it.

I know and love people in many herds.

After we drove a bit, Jase, not knowing any of the dialogue in my brain, said “Hey Mare? When we have more money, will we still live a small life?”

Me: “Oh. Hell. Yes. Honey. Oh, hell yes”…………….

Stop The Dizzying Direction Dilema

The many directions are dizzying.

Do this, do that, go here, don’t go there, try this not that………read this, listen to that………be mindful, eat well, exercise, work hard but don’t forget self care……..

Spinning in the circle of opinions and advice is nauseating business.

There are things we believe and truths that we know.

Truth comes from experience. No one can argue you out of your own experience. Your experience, that’s concrete.

Beliefs…..hmmmm now those are shape shifting little buggars.

For years I believed the medication highway was not for me. I believed in meditation, not medication. Oh how those beliefs are a shiftin!

I have tried more medications in the past 5 months than in all of my 44 years on this planet, and in 2 weeks I’m going to have Ketamine infusions.

Truth is: I’m miserable. My body is wracked with pain from head to toe. I feel like I’m dragging it though quick sand. Laying down is the only thing that provides a little relief. It hurts to move.

I’ve exercised, eaten healthy, consumed top of the line supplements, meditated, stretched, gotten rest, listened to and read spiritual text etc…for most of my adult years. I began searching for optimal health in body, mind and spirit in my early 20’s.

My truth tells me: SO FUCKING WHAT!?

Do I believe that those things are “good”? Am I still participating in these activities. Sure do and sure am but my truth tells me something different.

My truth tells me: YOU HAVE NO COTROL

I read this today: “Do not despair, then, because of limitations. It is your function to escape from them, but not to be with out them. If you would be heard by those who suffer, you must speak their language.

I’ve never taken the time to learn a foreign language but I’m being taught one against my will.

I suppose it’s time to let go and listen.

I’ll Have The Venti Vent

Writing to vent.

A form of therapy. Give your hands free license to fly across the keys with out pause.

Get it off your chest.

The frustration, the gratitude, the ideas and woes.

Life is meant to be shared.

Share what comes up, free from worry of what others will think.

Have you had a week of weird?

Me too.

It started with excruciating pain.

Then a consult at a pain clinic and making the decision to move forward with ketamine infusions in a couple weeks. Getting more blood drawn. Reading the MRI report, finding the neurologist failed to share there’s a cyst on my left kidney, and the cyst on the left side of my spine is causing severe spinal chord stenosis. What the hell is up with the left side of my body?

Continue on to driving up our mountain last night in yet another snow storm, having to back up and let some neighbors pass. Getting stuck and blocking us all in. Another neighbor towing my back end, practically sending me soaring off the edge of the mountain. Eventually getting underway, climbing up, hitting ice, loosing control of my truck as it slid backwards down the mountain, yanking the emergency break, slamming it into park, still sliding, eventually, miraculously coming to a stop. Shaking, hyperventilating, blindly making it up, safely home. Getting a message from neighbors that three cars slid down into one another in the exact spot I did. Thankful no one fell to their deaths…………..having to call into work today, even though my bank account continues to dance with a negative balance.

There is much I’m grateful for, but holy shit, sometimes I need to verbally vomit the nausea of existence.

Determination

Cricket the Cat

I am determined.

A puddle of tears, in the worst body pain I have ever felt.

I thought I was improving.

Jase and I saw an increase of energy over the past week.

I am determined.

I’m not giving up.

Determined: having made a firm decision and being resolved not to change it.

Stop Should~ing On Yourself and Others

What good is it when you find yourself in a precarious situation and exclaim “I SHOULD have done it differently!”

Why should on yourself like that?

All the shoulding in the world, will not, can not, change the fact that you did it the way you did it, and you are in the situation NOW.

What’s done is done.

Let us also put and end to shoulding on others.

“I think you SHOULD do it this way.”……………”You SHOULD have done what I suggested.”…………..”I told you so.” ……..”Why can’t you do it like me.”

The past is the past. It happened. No one can change the past.

There are Should have’s from the past, Should have’s for the future and Should be’s for the present moment.

Can we remove the shame of shoulding on ourselves and others?

We hold tightly to our shoulds.

Our parents, our exes, our friends, and children should have done it differently.

News flash: THEY CANT DO IT DIFFRENTLY.

No one on the face of this planet can go back and change the choices they’ve made, and we hold the power to give others the benefit of the doubt that they did the best with what they had, knew and felt at the time.

AND we hold the power to forgive ourselves. I here by excuse you from the shoulds you have weighing on your shoulders.

Poof! You’re a million pounds lighter.

~ Funny story about the above pictures. This past Thursday, I was backing down the drive and my truck slid into a pickle. It took us all day to get it out and ended up destroying the fence. The miracle is my front tire was an inch from the edge of the deck wall. My truck could have rolled over onto the deck and into the house. Miracles do happen and Jase never once told me what I “SHOULD” have done. ~

Follow The Sun

Somehow the light gets in.

We have dark spaces with in. No one, I repeat no one is alone in this.

I am thankful for the moments in life that have cultivated awareness and compassion.

Times that have knocked me off the “high horse” I’ve so arrogantly put myself on again and again. When I boast about all I “know”. When my mouth is a loud beacon beckoning others to see the world as I see it.

I’m thankful that the Universe keeps kicking my ass.

It was simply my ego’s attempt at trying to be special, to stand out among the rest.

There is no standing out.

There is equality. We are together. We are ONE with the Universe, dancing to the rhythm of life. Each of us hearing our own drummer. We were each given our own tune.

Put and end to dancing to someone else’s tune.

You’re unique rhythm is in your heart dear friend.

Here’s a favorite song of mine. I appreciate the lyrics:

When you feel life coming down on you,
Like a heavy weight
When you feel this crazy society,
Adding to the strain
Take a stroll to the nearest waters
And remember your place
Many moons have risen and fallen long, long before you came

So which way is the wind blowin’,
And what does your heart say?

It’s OK To Lose Your Focus

Ever feel like a loser?

Like you waste your seconds, minutes, hours, days?

Placing labels on your momentary loss of focus?

Saying things like “I wasted an entire day by feeling miserable and doing nothing.”……….”I’m such a fuck up.”…………..”I never do anything right.”……………..”Why does this always happen to me?”

Do you get caught up in the loop? Unable to see anything other than your perceived mistakes?

Once in the loop, it’s not enough to dwell on the imperfections of the current day, the mind must dig up the corpses from the past.

By the day’s end your brain is a tossed salad of rotting produce. You crawl into bed with a gaping hole in the center of your being. A vortex of black where you’re sure your heart is meant to be. A nameless fear clinging to your gut.

Errors, mistakes, lapses in judgment………all they need is simple correction. We mustn’t hold them in our grasp trying to solve them as if they were a puzzle.

We can set them down and walk away.

They are simply attempts to keep you unaware of your True Self.

Dwelling on our perceived mistakes, puts them in a place of power. All we are doing is delaying our learning. We clog our senses and can no longer hear the soft whispers of the Universe.

The greatest harm we do to ourselves is to remain in the loop.

Take a flying leap my friend! Redirect your course and move forward.

It’s merely a momentary loss of focus.

{Photo above by me}

Your Truth Is Yours And It’s Beautiful

My heart is a tangle of thoughts, emotions, experiences, circumstances, and beliefs.

Stuck in a web of spiritual knowing and medical information.

This journey so far has unveiled that I never enter into deep sleep, there’s a cyst on my spinal column, vitamin deficiencies and Epstein Barr Virus.

We learned of the spinal cyst this week. It explains why my hiking and running abilities have slowly diminished. Why riding a bike is nearly impossible. Walking up stairs requires such mental focus.

They can run tests on my nerves to see the extent of the damage. I can also speak to a neurosurgeon.

So, here I sit.

More blood work is scheduled, I have an appointment with a pain management clinic etc…….I am on sleep meds to reset my body and hopefully get it back into deep sleep. I have a candy store of muscle relaxers, vitamins, and some weird pain med.

As I type, the entire left side of my body is numb and tingling. There’s aching and burning in all muscles and joints. My eyes feel sunken in and my face feels like it’s sliding off. My feet are frozen, my hands are hot.

I have 2 choices.

#1: Focus on all the sensations and go stark raving mad. Dive head first into anger and hatred over how my meat suit feels. How I feel betrayed by the body I thought I was taking care of with exercise and nutrition. Resistance at its’ finest.

#2: Accept what is, breathe deeply, and focus on what I know to be true for me.

MY TRUTH.

My truth can not be taken from me.

I do believe the key to surviving the human experience is to find your truth. Find it, cling to it, understand that it’s yours, and if you tend to it, it will grow deeper and more beautiful over time.

In a world where numerous beliefs are circulating, you have the right to find what is true for you without making anyone else wrong. (I am guilty of going though a phase of thinking I had it all figured out.)

A belief that says “this is the ONLY way” is a belief of fear and controll.

That’s all I have for today. Be well, be kind, and find something to laugh about.

Thank you for reading.

Ping Pong Ball

Photo by me

It’s 7:30 am.

Sitting in my cave eating gluten free rotini with meat sauce and gobs of cheese.

I have to leave for work in an hour.

I have nothing to say. No ideas for a post. My mind feels fragmented.

D-I-S-C-O-N-N-E-C-T-E-D

There’s a ping pong ball in my brain, bouncing around, igniting random thoughts.

I’d like to unzip my skin and step outside for a bit.

It’s one of those mornings where meditation feels bland like rice with no salt or butter.

The information I read does not invoke emotion. It’s dead in the water.

The most poignant thing rolling around in my spaced out brain: “Don’t FEEL spiritual, BE IT!”

No matter the “feelings”, truth will remain truth.

I could spill forth a run on sentence of thoughts that make no sense. The fear of going to an outing with a couple I clean for is like being a child and seeing a teacher outside of school, it socks you in the gut, because it shifts your comfort zone so radically, how do I shift from being the cleaning lady, to being dressed up and having fun? How do I let go of the irrational fear? For most of life I’ve seen birds of prey soaring above my car as I drive, a reminder to soar, to not give up, to believe in something greater, lately I see numerous birds of prey and they are ALL sitting in trees. No soaring, perching. Am I being reminded to rest and trust the process. To cease trying and to be? Why is there such a fuss when a famous person dies when hundreds, maybe thousands of deaths go unnoticed around the globe. They are no less human than those in the “spotlight”.

Bouncing bouncing bouncing goes the ping pong ball of thought.

Today is just one of those days.

The Awesomeness Of Awe

Photo by me

Letting go.

Relaxing into life.

The results provoke awe.

There’s a spot I like to visit near the home I clean every Friday. I stopped there a few weeks ago and while getting back in my truck, I heard “Hey!”.

When I first moved to Colorado, I took a job at the homeless shelter in North Boulder. There was an intelligent young man who was participating in a program to help him get back on his feet. He happened to be the one who urged me to up my cleaning rates from $25 to $35 an hour. (In this area $35 is still relatively low)

I had an overnight shift and wondered why he didn’t check in.

Long story short, he had a bad night. He phoned the shelter and I was on the phone with him until 3 am. He was drunk, on meds and threatening suicide.

I never saw him again.

2.5 years later the “Hey” I heard was this young man.

He had been wanting to apologize to me for the past 2.5 years. I had wondered if he was alive for the past 2.5 years. My coworkers and I held a candlelight ceremony asking for his protection.

Funny thing is, it was a cold windy day, and I wasn’t planning on stopping.

He wasn’t planning to drive all the way out to this particular spot and take a long lunch break.

Letting go.

Relaxing into life.

The results are awe provoking.

The Manure Of Life

Photo by me

Bloom.

Where ever you find yourself, no matter the circumstance: BLOOM

Each and everyone of us is capable of kindness.

My first thought when I opened my eyes this morning was “I fucking hate life.”

Second thought: “Don’t believe everything you think Mare. Now get your ass up. Get out your journal and cue up some meditation. Today is in your hands. You can either wipe your ass with it, or make the best of it.”

Bloom anyway. Bloom because we all hate life at some point or another. Bloom because it feels better than walking around like a sourpuss.

Bloom because we all feel like negative assholes and do our best to cover it up. Bloom because you believe in being authentic and you know damn well your authentic self is down to earth, loving and kind.

Sometimes life feels like a pile of manure.

Let’s not forget that manure is chock full of nutrients that plants need. Manure keeps plants healthy and green.

So Bloom baby! Soak in all that shit and bloom.

Poo Poo Magoo

Jase lured me out of “the cave” at 5pm to do the above puzzle.

I spent Sunday in the cave with the blinds shut, leaving for brief moments to pee and feed on junk food. Yes, junk food. Sometimes a girl has to live on the edge. Considering, I feel the same regardless of what I eat, I do indulge from time to time: Cookies with coffee, 1/2 a cheese pizza, chips and dip, champagne, and the book “how to build a girl.”

All junk and all delightful. The book is absolute trash, but in a good way.

Oh, and Jase handed me a grilled pork chop sometime around noon and said I needed protein. Literally, handed me a pork chop.

No plate, no fork and knife. Just a napkin, and said eat.

The healthiest thing I did was read in Gabby Bernstein’s “Super Attractor” and did 2 meditations where I learned the name of my guardian angel is Emily.

Yes, Emily. It means “hard working and industrious”. Fuck yeah, you have to be to watch over my ass.

Last Sunday, I made the grave mistake of leaving the cave, which resulted in me cleaning the house and trying to walk on a trail. In other words, trying to be “normal”.

Both resulted in further fatigue and pain. I then began the work week at an unimpressive deficit of energy.

Not wanting to make the same mistake, I remained a cave dweller until the sun began to sink. If I stay in there with the blinds closed, I feel better about missing the day. It tricks my brain into believing it’s perpetually night.

We still have no answers as to why I’m falling apart. The doctors are working on ruling everything out.

This morning I set up a science lab in the bathroom. I shit in a paper hat and put my excrement into viles with popsicle sticks. It was both humiliating and disgusting. Off to the lab with my poo poo magoo to check for parasites.

Angel Dust: May Be Hazardous To Forgetfulness

How quickly we forget Spirit.

Yet, we are never forgotten.

We run.

We leave a cloud of dust in our wake.

Spirit gently guides us back.

Yesterday, at my retail job, a customer asked me to hold out my hand. She placed something in it and said, “This is magic, put it in your pocket and go do something fun. This is meant to make you feel good.”

I put it in my pocket as I was asked to do. After she left I went to the restroom to see what magic had been bestowed.

A $50 bill. What a kind gesture.

Funny thing is I had been reading about Archangels over my morning coffee.

I know that I know that I know, the lesson meant for me is: “help will show up in unexpected ways. Not on my timeline and not according to my outline.”

My job is to ask, and invite Source to be a part of my life.

When we align ourselves with Source, and focus on love, the rest is taken care of.

Asking for guidance creates movement.

Mighty Modification

Photo by me with my refurbished Canon

You’re never as crusty as you think.

Pull away what’s dead in your life.

New blooms are on the horizon.

You are still you, only the blooms renew.

Yesterday at my retail job, one of the managers complimented me on not losing my personality, though I don’t feel well. She commented on how the “energy” of my being has not changed, I still make her laugh multiple times through out my shift.

What a lovely comment.

I’m thankful that the tempest within has not spilled onto those around me.

I’ve been upfront with many in my life as to how poorly I’m feeling. I believe there’s healing in being authentic, truthful and open about life’s struggles.

I’m not as crusty as I thought I was.

I carry the fear of affecting others negatively. I especially worry about Jase and the hit our life has taken.

I can’t be adventurous in the way we are used to, but we can make modifications.

MODIFY: make partial or minor changes to (something), typically so as to improve it or to make it less extreme.

Currently we are working on bringing “happy hour” to the house.

Our plan is in it’s infant stage, but we want to make each day of the week something fun to look forward to.

There’s something magical about having a focal point when you’re not feeling great.

Peppered Peter

Jase here. It was said in our loving nursery rhymes that….

Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. I can’t really speak for Peter. At least not the Peter from these kids stories. I can only speak for another Peter. Mine, and what devastating results I had by picking up a few Jalapeno peppers to put in my Pho yesterday for flavor.

Ya see Mare and I went out for lunch to get some Vietnamese noodle soup known as Pho. It’s all the rage out here in Colorado. You can find it on every street corner. During lunch i joked to Mare….”hey babe remember to tell me to wash my hands later in case we are feeling our oats and decide to get a bit frisky”. We had a great laugh and forgot all about it.

That’s the problem. We forgot all about it!!! When we got home I had to pee before throwing on my bike shorts and going out for a ride. As much as I forgot about my unwashed hands, the jalapeno pepper oils didn’t forget they coated my fingers.

Five minutes later I felt like i rubbed BenGay ointment or maybe isopropyl alcohol on my junk. I had an inferno raging in my spandex tights. I rode my cyclocross bike for about two hours. The extra pressure on the nose of my saddle coupled with the abrasive sliding back and forth as I was climbing kinda took my mind of the burn in one area and spread it to the lactic acid in my muscles.

But, when i got home and hit the shower, the blaze started back up. It was like when you eat “atomic” hot wings and you take a drink of water. It doesn’t do crap for you mouth. In fact it feels like it spreads the burn to other areas. Same with the shower water. It intensified the burn.

As we all know from wings, you need blue cheese to extinguish the flames in your mouth and lips. Unfortunately, we didn’t have blue cheese in the house to put my junk in. We only had ranch dressing and well we only had enough for our salads last night…..

Put Your Fangs Away

Cricket the Cat

I seem to be moving in and out of gratitude, anger and fear.

I’ll take movement over stagnation any day.

Millions of people are suffering daily for multitudes of reasons, I’m well aware.

But this is my story. My corner to vent, show my fangs and then put them away.

As of late, I use all of my energy for work. When I say “energy”, it’s a lie, because I don’t have any. A better description is, I’m forcing myself to work, and my bank account is still at a negative balance, but on the bright side I have February’s rent.

Is it weird to say it’s a relief to not have enough money? I’ve been afraid of not having enough since my divorce and now that it’s happening I’m kind of relieved. I’ve traumatized myself for years and the trauma is over. My worst fear has materialized and it’s not as bad as I thought. Put rent first so you have a roof over your head and let the bill collectors do their jobs so they don’t get bored. I’m all about helping others.

Illness is slowly dissolving worries about certain subjects. The situation is too big for my humanness to figure out.

Everyday I feel as if I pedaled a bike up Mt. Everest through quick sand.

Being angry doesn’t feel good so I’m moving on. I’m putting my fangs away until further notice.

Write Damn It

Photo by me

Sit down and write. It’s what you love to do.

Ever since I was a little person I’ve enjoyed writing. Once I learned to read, I never stopped. A “bookworm” through and through.

It’s easy to pick up someone else’s writing.

Knowing you love writing and actually taking action, not so easy.

Especially when you’re the type of person who’s been waiting for the perfect first step their entire life and then you get so fucking antsy standing still you make impulsive decisions and take risks that make other people say WTF?

Perfect does not exist, nor will it ever exist.

Write because you love to write. Write because you see the miracle in constructing millions of words out of a measly 26 letters. Write because it makes you feel better. Write because it’s beautiful and it gives you a release. Write because freedom is found in words.

There are no rules here.

Throw off whatever you think is holding you back.

Become light as a feather and don’t overthink it.

I’m Glad I’m Not A Lobster

Holy balls, this made my day 🙂

Food.for.Thoughts gave me the Liebster award. At first I thought it was the lobster award and that lobster was misspelled.

‘Liebster’ in German means sweetest, kindest, nicest, dearest, beloved, lovely, kind, pleasant, valued, cute, endearing, and welcome.

Whew, I’m grateful I’m not a Lobster, although they are tasty, can be a bit “pinchy”.

Seriously though, Food.for.Thoughts is a great blog. I appreciate her honesty over burnout, depression and how to care for yourself. You will find interesting and informative posts with sprinkles of fun and humor along the way. Check it out!

She’s also lefthanded, as am I. We may be left handed, but we are always right. Ok, bad jokes aside………..

Here are the questions for me to answer:

  1. If you had an intro music, what song would it be? Why? Resiliant by Rising Appalacia because no matter how shitty things get I keep getting back up. I’m like the terminator for Christ’s sake.

2. What’s popular now, but annoys you? I don’t know what’s popular, so I can’t be annoyed by any of it. I’ve always done my own thing.

3. If you opened a business, what kind of business would it be? Someplace cozy and welcoming. A little bit of everything for every mood. Art supplies, yummy snacks, amazing books, smooshy sink in deep furniture, board games, puzzles, a climbing wall, cats and dogs roaming about, a few fire places, real cameras for people to play with etc…

4. Who in your life brings you the most joy? Jase is one funny fucker. My kids. Cricket the Cat. I also have amazing friends.

5. Where is the most beautiful place you have been? Where we live is pretty great. I grew up in the Midwest, so Colorado is a step up for me.

Being Bland Is Beautiful

Photo by me: “Bobcat Ridge” near our home

Do you ever feel “bland”?

It’s how I describe my mood and life at the moment.

I appreciate bland. For years I’ve been a “seeker”, looking for answers, looking for hobbies, looking for “IT”.

I’ve been addicted to novelty and the adrenaline rush of newness. I’ve never been settled.

It’s safe to say most of us go through a seeking phase in our youth. Feeling compelled to carve out who we are. Stand out. Be seen.

For years I sought physical and spiritual perfection. Subconsciously I wanted to prove I deserved to be here. I look back and chuckle at my antics.

Here I am with failing health, barely able to keep weight on my little body. I fluctuate between anger and gratitude.

I’m grateful for the slowing down. I’m letting go of fear, letting go of control, letting go of everything I thought I knew.

I am reminded that I am a spiritual being having a human experience. I am learning to be quiet and listen to Source.

Source is what I refer to as the “non-physical presence”. Call it whatever you want. God, Buddha, Universe. It’s all the same. I prefer Source.

I’m thankful for the stillness within, it’s why I feel bland. It’s a stark contrast to my constant “doing” that I’m accustomed to.

I have a feeling that my being forced to slow down will be one of the best things to ever happen to me.

Here’s a song by Rising Appalachia that I’m currently addicted to. They are sisters with powerful lyrics and music.

Shit’s On Tap

When life serves up a pint of shit, you’ve got 2 choices. Pinch your nose and drink it or find a different tap.

I’m working on finding a different tap. The shit in my pint glass is unacceptable.

I accept that it’s there, but I don’t have to drink it.

Accept and adapt.

Find a new tap.

Giving In

I’ve considered deleting this blog. Thought about what a drag it is to write about pain and fatigue.

Wrestled with Jase over the idea of letting it go. He’s urging me to keep going, I want to give up.

Fact is, our lives have been over taken by my pain and fatigue. When I go to work, I can’t give full vent to the intensity of what I’m feeling. I stuff it down, dig deep, and find a way to do my job until I can fall apart in my car and then back at home.

While at work, there are multiple times my body screams at me to throw in the towel, to give up and go home. There’s a tenacity somewhere with in that keeps fighting, keeps reminding me there are bills to pay. It’s getting harder and harder to “fake it till I make it”. Fuck that.

I can’t find the words to describe what my body is experiencing. Dragging yourself through quicksand with cinderblocks tied to every limb.

Washing my hair zaps my arms with the feeling of burning lactic acid in a matter of seconds, and I have to find a way to clean a home from 4 to 7 hours or work retail for the day?

Survival.

I prefer a bed in a house over an air mattress in a tent. That’s the only thing that keeps me going. I don’t desire homelessness.

I’m terrified that one day my body will protest to the point of just not working anymore.

I’m jealous as hell of those who can navigate illness with no thought toward their finances. Yes.

I. AM. JEALOUS.

I fantasize about not having the added stress of keeping a roof over my head or a car to drive to work to keep the roof over my head.

I question why I’m not in a better position this late in the game.

Well, fact is, I’m not. This is my reality.

All the “why’s” and “what if’s” will not change what is in my life right now.

The co~worker who is so steeped in her high vibrational frequency that when I share a crumb of my depth her response is “I’m so happy for you! That’s wonderful!” I want to rip her head off and shit down her neck for being such a superficial piece of garbage. OOOO but it’s not socially acceptable to feel that way.

If you can’t handle a watered down version of my truth, don’t fucking ask.

In my recent pod cast listening I’ve witnessed Lady Gaga and Gabby Bernstein share their struggles with chronic pain and mental health. I appreciate and love them for speaking out. For having the balls to admit to their followers they struggle. To overcome the stereotypes. They are badass.

I have yet to hear someone speak about illness and financial lack. I’m sure if I do enough digging, I’ll find what I’m looking for.

I don’t know where to put the feelings and challenges I’m facing. They are new and unexpected.

I’m not versed in not wanting to be outside or go on a new adventure. I don’t know what to do with physical lethargy when my mind is saying it wants to go have fun.


The Chore Of Living And The Number Seven

I feel like a dick saying this but being alive feels like a chore. With numerous tragedies happening in the world, I’m an asshole for not feeling better about life.

My deep appreciation for life is buried under physical exhaustion and pain. Covered by the fact that every task I take on is stealing energy from the future.

I’m sick of writing about it, you’re sick of reading about it. It’s like a fucking straight jacket holding back more than my arms. It’s a full on body suit of chains.

Instead let’s look at the 7 Elk I saw on the way home.

Number 7 is the number of perfection, security, safety and rest.

That sands off some rough edges.

The Bedding Leprechauns Are Not Real

Woke up in the pile of sweaty bedding. You know the pile. The tail end of the flu pile.

Once you get out of the clammy pile there’s no getting back in. You have no choice but to wash the bedding. But you’re so weak and dehydrated, you wish the bedding leprechauns were real.

Well, I assure you, they are not real.

Not much of a post. But if too many days go by, before I know it a year will pass………….

All The Things I Didn’t Do Today

photo by me, as usual

I didn’t construct the bed I woke up in.

I took no part in sewing the pillows, sheets or blankets wrapped around my body.

Didn’t come up with the design for my jockeys, t-shirt or hair tie.

I did not design, glaze, cast, dry, spray, fire or test the toilet.

I peed.

I did not grow, cut, then grind a tree to create pulp. Nor did I mix pulp in water and chemicals and then bleach the pulp or remove the lignin.

I wiped.

I did not install the plumbing or dig the 300 foot well.

I flushed.

I’ll speed this up. You’ve got the point? There’s so much I didn’t do today. I didn’t grow, pick or grind the coffee beans. I didn’t manufacture the coffee pot, the fridge, the counter tops or sinks. I didn’t put together my truck, or pave the roads.

In fact, I did not participate in the creation of the many objects and materials that served me today.

What I did do, is mindlessly use all of these things without an ounce of gratitude. I was busy feeling anxious and overwhelmed by life. By not feeling like “myself”. By mere survival. By wishing my life were different.

The reality of this grabbed me by the heart.

For years I’ve read about “mindfulness”. I’ve listened to podcasts on how to achieve it. Spent hours meditating.

A scavenger sniffing out morsels to consume, in the hopes they would change me. A caterpillar munching away, getting fat on information to wrap myself in a cocoon, hoping for metamorphosis.

I became a robot forcing myself to think or say “I’m pouring the coffee.” or “I’m wiping my ass.”

Nothing felt authentic. Just failed attempts at “fixing” another fault of mine. I’ve spent my life feeling as if my existence is a mess to be cleaned up.

I’ve let go of trying to get it.

It’s beginning to sink in and I had nothing to do with it.

When truth works it’s way into a pliable heart, you feel the changes on a cellular level. At least I do. I can’t speak for you.

Thank You For Recognizing My Sunshine

Thank you Goldie and Maja for these lovely nominations. Thank you for writing and sharing your thoughts on blog land. Your presence and bravery is appreciated here. Thank you for reading what I have to say and for not being offended by my sarcasm and liberal use of the word fuck.

Since I’ve never been a rule follower I’m going to wrap these into one post. Also this is my first blogging rodeo and my first awards. I am in the infant stages so bear with me.

Display logos: done 1. Thank the blogger(s) who nominated you and provide a link to their blog. CHECK
2. Write a post to show your award. WORKIN ON IT
3. Give a brief story of how your blog started. ON A WHIM BEFORE HEADING OFF TO WORK. I KEPT SAYING I WANTED TO START A BLOG, SO WHAT BETTER TIME TO SIGN UP THAN RUSHING OUT THE DOOR. MADE ME FEEL OBLIGATED TO TRY. I FOUND I REALLY LIKE IT HERE. IT HELPS TAKE MY MIND OFF FEELING LIKE GARBAGE.

4. Give two pieces of advice to new bloggers. WRITE. WRITE.
5. Select up to fifteen bloggers you want to give this award to. THAT’S A LOT. I ALSO HAVE A HIDDEN FEAR OF IMPOSING ON PEOPLE. NOT SO HIDDEN ANY MORE. I WORRY TOO MUCH
6. Comment (or pingback) on each blog to let them know that you’ve nominated them, and provide a link to the post you’ve created. ALSO ALOT AND I HAVE A REBELIOUS STREAK OF NOT LISTENTING. I CAN BE KIND OF AN ASS HOLE SOMETIMES.

  1. Do you write like you think, or do you look up words to make your writing seem more “fancy?” SCARILY ENOUGH, I WRITE LIKE I THINK. I ONLY LOOK UP WORDS IF I’M SCARED OF USING THEM IMPROPERLY. I TRY TO KEEP THINGS SHORT AND CONCISE.
  2. How does your average Sunday look like? WAKING UP TOO EARLY AND BEING PISSED THAT MY BODY WONT SLEEP IN. NURSING MY WOUNDS FROM WORKING TOO HARD. THERE’S NEVER A PLAN. JASE AND I JUST DO WHAT FEELS RIGHT.
  3. What is the most courageous thing you’ve ever done? I MOVED ACROSS THE UNITED STATES AFTER A DIVORCE. I HAD NO JOB AND NO PLACE TO LIVE. SHIT WORKS OUT
  4. How do you sharpen your writing skills? BY WRITING. HITTING PUBLISH ESPECIALLY WHEN I FEEL LIKE WHAT I’VE WRITTEN IS CRAP.
  5. Do you snore? NO, BUT APPARENLY MY BUTT DOES

You’ve Got Rings In Your Trunk

This is a reflective time for most.

I crawled out of my cave to join Jase and the kids at the climbing gym today. (now yesterday) I peek over my screen and catch a glimpse of the people I love. It stings that I physically cant participate. I think back to the spring when my oldest son took me on my first climb.

Hard to believe that was me.

Just another “ring” in my trunk. Metaphorically speaking that is. It’s different than having “junk in my trunk.”

Each spring and summer, a tree adds new layers of wood to its trunk.

The wood formed in spring grows fast and is lighter because it consists of large cells.

In summer, growth is slower; the wood has smaller cells and is dark.

So when the tree is cut, the layers appear as alternating rings of light and dark wood.

Count the dark rings and you’ll determine a tree’s age.

The rings indicate everything the tree has lived through: drought, sun, water, fires, insects, shade, being crowded by other trees etc……

The inside of the tree is literally a map of it’s years. There’s a cool diagram here.

Since I’m not a fan of long posts, and my head hurts from trying to choose a direction to go with how much richness and correlation there is between our years and the rings of a tree.

I’ll let you chew on it yourselves. Feel free to share any thoughts in the comments.

Happy 2020 folks. The start of another ring in our trunks.

The image above is the tree we cut down this holiday since the kids were visiting. I’m sad we ended it’s life. It’s looks like 2019 was a good year. Thank you tree.

New year, new start!

Oh my, where do i start? Hello! I’m Kasu! You know, the 11 year old you can find in the factiods about us. I am an anime artist, animator, and cosplayer! I’m writing this post because I’m interested about how the whole thing works! So I guess i will introduce myself! As i said I am anime artist and animator. I post my pieces on youtube just for fun! I am also a cosplayer! If you don’t know what a cosplayer is, it is where you dress up as a character from a video game, movie, anime, show, etc. I own a little gerbil my sister named Caffeinated Buns. A silly name for a silly boy!

Living the way I have has been hard but i could not have done it without my friends and family! I love them all dearly and have gotten so much support and love from them throughout my 11 years of living, shout out to my school and online besties! Also having to deal with middle has really given me stress with trying to get good grades and try not get bullied everyday. Though i’m dealing with all of these issues, I still try to push through it all and show the world who I really am!

When you meet me you would probably think “what’s with her?” or “why is she like that?” and i’m ok with that! People can think whatever they want, but I am me! They can’t control me (unless they are my parents). There are parts of me that are brave but I still lack some self confidence. When it comes to my beauty i’m not all that happy with it. I am trying to change and gain confidence, but it will be a big process. On social media I try not to show my face and just show them my art or animations. I try to ignore comments and believe in myself as much as possible

So yeah. I’m excited that 2020 has arrived and so has more of my creativity!I hope to post on here again because it was fun writing this all! Happy new year!

Mom, You Could Have Said Your Son Has A Vagina

My son Archie is comfortable with the fact that he’s rockin a vagina.

I told Archie about a conversation I recently had with a stranger. She made a comment that teens will blame their parents for their problems and hate them etc…etc….

My response was, “I have 4 boys, and am pretty close to all of them.”

That spurred her on to rant about how it’s only because I have boys I’m close to them and they have to individuate. If my children were all girls they’d dislike me, so on and so forth.

Archie’s response, “Mom, you should have fucked with her head and told her one of your sons has a vagina.”

There’s a million and one reasons to love Archie. He’s a trans man fully comfortable in his own skin. Embracing the journey as testosterone deepens his voice, thins his hair, and catapults him simultaneously through menopause and puberty. Gone are the days of wearing a binder to flatten his breasts. The grace with which he evolves humbles me.

He’s the bravest fucking person I know.

How did I get the privilege of being his mom? I swear he popped out of my vag wise beyond his years. I feel like I barely had to parent him. He came with inherent goodness oozing out of his soul.

No, I am not biased because I’m his mother.

I remember meeting his 5th grade teacher for the first time. In tears I told her “this child is special. I know every mother believes this, but this one, this one is truly special.”

A few months later I received an email telling me how incredibly off the charts this kid was.

In 3rd grade he said “Mom, I want to the play the oboe”

Me on the inside “Holy fuck, what’s an oboe.” ………..on the outside “sure, you can play the oboe.”

I’ve now been to Carnegie Hall twice to see the kid play. Seriously.

He plays other instruments and sings. This is one of my favorites. His voice is even deeper now

He’s in school for music therapy. Yes, to help people. You see this kid has ginormous amounts of anxiety and depression. Does that stop him, no. He makes all his own therapy appointments and takes the medication bull by the horns.

In fact I didn’t know what anxiety was. He is the one who came to me one day after he sought treatment for his and said “Mom, I figured all these years you just chose to live with your anxiety untreated.”

Talk about feeling like a fuck up as a parent.

The top photo was taken yesterday before his flight back out. I knew the hike and then the drive to the airport would land me in bed today, but it was well worth it.

What could be better than laying in bed, drinking a milk stout, blogging about one of your kids while Jase entertains the rest of the brood at the climbing gym?

Sure my muscles and joints feel like they’re fresh off the grill, I’m slurring my speech from exhaustion and thoughts feel furry like my teeth after too much sugar, but you do what you can.

I’m thankful for the distraction of blogging and that Archie’s comfortable with his vagina.

Cricket Cracks The Code For 2020

Cricket doesn’t give a rat’s ass that one decade is ending and another is beginning.

She doesn’t give a flying fuck that its a new year.

On January 1st she will wake up to her daily routine. Life as she knows it will be unchanged.

She’s not anxious about getting in shape, eating less meat, making money, being mindful, reading more books, writing a book, obtaining more followers, being green, helping others, getting out of debt, sticking to a budget, saving for a dream vacation, getting more organized, eating more vegetables, making better use of her time, using her smartphone less, learning the ukulele, or purging from social media.

She lives her life unencumbered.

She might stop and wonder what all the fuss is about. 2020……….it’s a number, a moment in time.

If she could talk she may ask you to recall 1998. Do you remember it? Was it good, bad, indifferent? What did you learn? Did you reach your so called goals? How about the year 2009? How was that year for ya? Were you still fat, in debt, hating your job and eating Cheetos at midnight while reading a trashy novel? Was that the year you finally “got it”? Really changed your life around? Or maybe it was 2015, that was a good year, right? You got out of debt, stopped drinking alcohol and learned to whittle. So which was it? What was the year of “magic”? Will 2020 be your year???????

Cricket doesn’t place her value in timelines. She takes each moment as it unfolds and lives in it.

While she’s laying in the sun licking her butthole, she doesn’t think to herself “I better clean this shit hole fast so I can get to reading another book. Mother fucker I have 11 months to get in 1,238 books. Last year I missed it by one! ONE, can you believe it?”

She cleans her butthole and then takes a nap.

While I do not intend to begin licking myself to get clean or shitting in a litter box, I do intend to live carefree like Cricket.

She seems to have things figured out.

If I Could Do Anything

If I could do anything.

I would drive a “happiness” van around the world

I would visit those with chronic illness in the hopes of interrupting their pain with joy.

It would be my own form of “distraction therapy” tailored to fit the interests of each individual.

I would take my pain and fatigue to the streets. I would meet others and we could share a belly laugh until we cry and there’s snot everywhere. Why not take our snot, sprinkle it with glitter, and use it as paint. There’s a distraction…….

I’d ask each person to describe what their body feels like. What it feels like to be them in just a few sentences. It would be a book written by thousands.

Yes, if I could do anything.

Wiping With Dessert

Meet Cake and Cupcake.

Industrial toilet paper ordered from Office Max. They lay on the bathroom floor. Just pull in an upward motion, tear, and wipe.

We are trying to keep our sense of humor intact while simultaneously feeling a host of other emotions.

Jase’s girls are in from Pennsylvania as we rent a home that is in the middle of nowhere and it feels safer, giving us all the opportunity to be outside. Our landlord who lives in Ohio has a 4 wheeler here that he lets us use.

We are keeping a loosely knit schedule, involving painting, being outside, naps, reading, movies and walks with Cricket the cat.

Yesterday on our stroll Cricket heard some dogs barking and refused to keep going. Jase picked her up and put the nape of her neck in his teeth like a mama cat. She went limp and became cooperative until we passed the perceived danger.

While playing a game of hide and seek outdoors, Cricket dutifully gave away my hiding spot. Sneaky cat.

Each time I catch myself thinking the worst case scenario about the future, I remind myself I am safe in this moment. We have rent for the following month and food in the kitchen.

Next month will have enough trouble of it’s own as Jase is not working and I’m barely working. This has become the life of so many families across the globe.

Thank you all for reading and commenting, this community is truly special. Jase and I are grateful to be a part of it.

Keep writing, laugh at anything you can, and be well.