This election is freaking me out. I voted. I'm going to stop watching the polls. I have an escape plan, sort of.
Wednesday, November 02, 2016
Monday, October 17, 2016
It's been a while. I'm ironing. My mother taught me to iron my father's shirts. With starch. Ug. I got pretty good.
I was on retreat all last week on Samish Island. Beautiful windy place with a heron roosting site, bald eagles, seals and deer, all of which I saw. I slept 12 hours a day and then sat in the meditation hall nodding out. Really pathetic. I brought 'natural' M & Ms to munch while trying to read by flashlight.
I met people who have been to the Burmese temple where I'm going in January. My right knee is giving me fits so I'm going to see a sports medicine doc on my dime to see if I can get injections to help it out while I'm gone traipsing around a foreign country with a backpack. I have fear and trembling to go by myself. I was supposed to do this sort of adventuring when I was young but I was busy with babies.
My sister is in a secure treatment center while they try to figure out the right cocktail of drugs to get her stabilized so her depression lessens. I talked with her today and she sounds ok.... The family illness scurries around our brains. Being across the country is so frustrating. Helpless. The subtext to this post. The worry that she won't be able to right herself. The guilt she feels that she can't be 'normal'. Our collective family curse. At least she told her AA sponsor to fuck off. Nope, this doesn't get fixed with prayer and giving it up to a higher power.
Gawd.
Michelle Obama is my personal guru. And a Saint for the people. Because she's beautiful and fierce and she tells the truth.
I was on retreat all last week on Samish Island. Beautiful windy place with a heron roosting site, bald eagles, seals and deer, all of which I saw. I slept 12 hours a day and then sat in the meditation hall nodding out. Really pathetic. I brought 'natural' M & Ms to munch while trying to read by flashlight.
I met people who have been to the Burmese temple where I'm going in January. My right knee is giving me fits so I'm going to see a sports medicine doc on my dime to see if I can get injections to help it out while I'm gone traipsing around a foreign country with a backpack. I have fear and trembling to go by myself. I was supposed to do this sort of adventuring when I was young but I was busy with babies.
My sister is in a secure treatment center while they try to figure out the right cocktail of drugs to get her stabilized so her depression lessens. I talked with her today and she sounds ok.... The family illness scurries around our brains. Being across the country is so frustrating. Helpless. The subtext to this post. The worry that she won't be able to right herself. The guilt she feels that she can't be 'normal'. Our collective family curse. At least she told her AA sponsor to fuck off. Nope, this doesn't get fixed with prayer and giving it up to a higher power.
Gawd.
Michelle Obama is my personal guru. And a Saint for the people. Because she's beautiful and fierce and she tells the truth.
Monday, October 03, 2016
My MIL apartment is done. No more contractors or painters. It's weird. Now it's just cleaning the house, doing laundry and cooking (too much food) for myself and my friends.
Yes, I watched the debate. Gawd.
I've been spending time hiking in the fall mountains, very beautiful. Last week I worked out to the edge of expiring and then hiked for 8+ miles. I couldn't really walk. I got good at moaning.
Yesterday I went to a Men in Dance performance and watched two men draw hopscotch squares on the sidewalk and then dance within the squares. They were obviously having a blast, throwing chalk and chalk dust at each other.
I've hired a lawyer to help me transition my business. What will I do with my time if I retire? I think I'll stay involved in clinic but I won't do births anymore. The thought of sleeping all night sounds so delicious. Although I have such a problem with insomnia now because of disrupted sleep forever. There is my book to write.
The Burma retreat is getting closer. I still haven't paid for airfare yet. Just paid property taxes, ouch.
Doing the math endlessly. Social security, rent from the MIL, payments from the sale of the business. Then there's Medicare supplemental and what if the car breaks or the roof leaks? Gha... How do people figure this out?
Yes, I watched the debate. Gawd.
I've been spending time hiking in the fall mountains, very beautiful. Last week I worked out to the edge of expiring and then hiked for 8+ miles. I couldn't really walk. I got good at moaning.
Yesterday I went to a Men in Dance performance and watched two men draw hopscotch squares on the sidewalk and then dance within the squares. They were obviously having a blast, throwing chalk and chalk dust at each other.
I've hired a lawyer to help me transition my business. What will I do with my time if I retire? I think I'll stay involved in clinic but I won't do births anymore. The thought of sleeping all night sounds so delicious. Although I have such a problem with insomnia now because of disrupted sleep forever. There is my book to write.
The Burma retreat is getting closer. I still haven't paid for airfare yet. Just paid property taxes, ouch.
Doing the math endlessly. Social security, rent from the MIL, payments from the sale of the business. Then there's Medicare supplemental and what if the car breaks or the roof leaks? Gha... How do people figure this out?
Saturday, September 17, 2016
Thursday, September 15, 2016
Tuesday, September 06, 2016
Saturday, August 27, 2016
Where I just was.
Say what you want but the NW is one fine and beautiful place. Yes it is. I slept for 12 hours straight in my tent under the stars.
Sunday, August 21, 2016
We had a birth recently that brought me to a new place of surrender and humility. My partner was 'catching' and I was assisting but hanging back to be the scribe while the students were taking heart tones and being ready for the baby.
With some difficulty the baby was born (big child!) and wasn't breathing; floppy and blue. After drying him, and encouraging the parents to talk to him, I stepped in with the bag and mask to inflate his lungs so his respiratory center would kick in and he'd begin to breathe. But he didn't. He started up a bit and then stopped. One student was listening and told me there was air going in. It's a mess, resuscitating a baby, equipment flying and palpable tension in the room. I could feel the sweat running down my face. At some point I asked for 911 to be called. I suctioned him a few times and bagged him some more. He was struggling to breathe, eyes open but unseeing.
And then I had an experience of timelessness or transcendence, I'm not sure. He and I had an unspoken dialog while I mentally reviewed a case of a baby who was stillborn a few years earlier. I told the baby it was ok to go or stay, with great love in my heart. I told him we would grieve for him if his time was brief but I was standing in the place to help him if he was going to come and live. I wasn't attached to the outcome, not afraid of the consequences if he died. I was merely a servant to his process, applying what I knew to do when there is respiratory distress. But there was no fight in me, only acceptance.
I have learned so many things in the years I have been a midwife; about relationships and parenting and love and struggle. I have technical skills that feel second nature to me now. And still. This baby brought me such a profound teaching. When he began to breathe and cry, we knew we weren't out of the woods, not yet. The aid car arrived and the nice men in the big black shoes took him away to the hospital where he was deemed fine to return to his home with his anxious parents.
When I visited them the next day, I held him on my lap and we had another silent talk. I welcomed him to his new life. I wished him well.
I called a close midwife friend and asked her why do we continue to do this work when it asks so much of us. This is what she said:
"Why we do this work: I recently helped a woman who started her pregnancy at 340 pounds. Her friends and family said there was no way she could have an out of hospital birth. They said she wasn't in good enough health and she didn't have the stamina to pull it off. She ate a wonderful diet, walked every day and completed her pregnancy at 304 pounds. She had a 4 hour labor, a 12 minute pushing phase and no postpartum hemorrhage. At 2 weeks postpartum she weighs 285 pounds, is nursing beautifully and couldn't be happier.
Another thought to ponder... those of us who went to the school of 'Have one, see one, do one.' We owe a debt to the goddess that walked beside us while we...in relative ignorance, but with strong passion decided to reclaim birth as the true initiatory process that it is. Can you remember the mixture of confidence and fear that we took to those very first totally hippie births? No running water, school buses, yurts, a little magic, and worn out copy of Hearts and Hands or Special Delivery as our only source of information. We were pioneers returning birth to the Sacred Circle of women. No way can I let go of that."
~KN
Amen, sister.
With some difficulty the baby was born (big child!) and wasn't breathing; floppy and blue. After drying him, and encouraging the parents to talk to him, I stepped in with the bag and mask to inflate his lungs so his respiratory center would kick in and he'd begin to breathe. But he didn't. He started up a bit and then stopped. One student was listening and told me there was air going in. It's a mess, resuscitating a baby, equipment flying and palpable tension in the room. I could feel the sweat running down my face. At some point I asked for 911 to be called. I suctioned him a few times and bagged him some more. He was struggling to breathe, eyes open but unseeing.
And then I had an experience of timelessness or transcendence, I'm not sure. He and I had an unspoken dialog while I mentally reviewed a case of a baby who was stillborn a few years earlier. I told the baby it was ok to go or stay, with great love in my heart. I told him we would grieve for him if his time was brief but I was standing in the place to help him if he was going to come and live. I wasn't attached to the outcome, not afraid of the consequences if he died. I was merely a servant to his process, applying what I knew to do when there is respiratory distress. But there was no fight in me, only acceptance.
I have learned so many things in the years I have been a midwife; about relationships and parenting and love and struggle. I have technical skills that feel second nature to me now. And still. This baby brought me such a profound teaching. When he began to breathe and cry, we knew we weren't out of the woods, not yet. The aid car arrived and the nice men in the big black shoes took him away to the hospital where he was deemed fine to return to his home with his anxious parents.
When I visited them the next day, I held him on my lap and we had another silent talk. I welcomed him to his new life. I wished him well.
I called a close midwife friend and asked her why do we continue to do this work when it asks so much of us. This is what she said:
"Why we do this work: I recently helped a woman who started her pregnancy at 340 pounds. Her friends and family said there was no way she could have an out of hospital birth. They said she wasn't in good enough health and she didn't have the stamina to pull it off. She ate a wonderful diet, walked every day and completed her pregnancy at 304 pounds. She had a 4 hour labor, a 12 minute pushing phase and no postpartum hemorrhage. At 2 weeks postpartum she weighs 285 pounds, is nursing beautifully and couldn't be happier.
Another thought to ponder... those of us who went to the school of 'Have one, see one, do one.' We owe a debt to the goddess that walked beside us while we...in relative ignorance, but with strong passion decided to reclaim birth as the true initiatory process that it is. Can you remember the mixture of confidence and fear that we took to those very first totally hippie births? No running water, school buses, yurts, a little magic, and worn out copy of Hearts and Hands or Special Delivery as our only source of information. We were pioneers returning birth to the Sacred Circle of women. No way can I let go of that."
~KN
Amen, sister.
Tuesday, August 16, 2016
I just ordered a dehydrator. For a plum explosion I just had in my house. My fridge is bursting.
There are new windows in my living room. The basement is nearing completion. As soon as the apartment is done, I'm renting that puppy. Money needs to flow in this direction, this way toward me instead of the outgoing tide. Y'know?
I despair of ever retiring. It will happen one day.
The heat was on in my living room this morning. Wha???? Fall approaches.
There are new windows in my living room. The basement is nearing completion. As soon as the apartment is done, I'm renting that puppy. Money needs to flow in this direction, this way toward me instead of the outgoing tide. Y'know?
I despair of ever retiring. It will happen one day.
The heat was on in my living room this morning. Wha???? Fall approaches.
Monday, August 08, 2016
Thursday, August 04, 2016
Dearies,
There are horrid Blue Angels in the sky, Felix is wearing a 'thunder shirt' for anxiety and some nice men are installing new windows in my house. One of them grew up here but his mama was from Georgia so he has a southern accent. It is music to my ears, the slower syllables and the easy rhythms-reminds me of grits and sweet tea and key lime pie. And the languid noontime activities, sitting on the screened in porch doing nothing.
My counter is covered with unripe pears from my neighbor across the street. He doesn't use them or eat them and he told me to help myself. Pear sauce for all!!
Made four packets of pesto this morning, the basil was starting to bolt so I picked it all and spent the morning picking leaves and blessing my cuisinart. I swear, after the dishwasher, the cuisinart is the best invention in the world. I do have some lust in m heart for a kitchenaid that does everything. A yellow one to match my kitchen.
I watched the conventions. Well, I couldn't stand to watch the RNC so I listened to bits on the radio. I did watch the DNC and boy, that Obama is one beautiful man. And he has a beautiful wife. As for the rest of the ongoing shit show, I have no words except disbelief. And sorrow.
I am making an extra effort to be kind and generous to all folks I encounter. My neighborhood had their annual 'Night Out' where we pull out the barbecue and bring potato salad and a store bought cheesecake and we hang out. My hood is everyone; Black, white, asian, hispanic. And we find out who lives down the street and which one of us has the black puppy and who has a fig tree in their back yard.
It's time to hit the lake for a swim. I'm lucky enough to be getting a massage and adjustment this afternoon. My body is getting old, I'll tell you what. And my work is tough on me sometimes. Keep moving is the trick, I think. As long as nothing hurts too much. The lake is vast and wonderful and I'll be able to see Mt Rainier while I swim. And maybe an eagle.
There are horrid Blue Angels in the sky, Felix is wearing a 'thunder shirt' for anxiety and some nice men are installing new windows in my house. One of them grew up here but his mama was from Georgia so he has a southern accent. It is music to my ears, the slower syllables and the easy rhythms-reminds me of grits and sweet tea and key lime pie. And the languid noontime activities, sitting on the screened in porch doing nothing.
My counter is covered with unripe pears from my neighbor across the street. He doesn't use them or eat them and he told me to help myself. Pear sauce for all!!
Made four packets of pesto this morning, the basil was starting to bolt so I picked it all and spent the morning picking leaves and blessing my cuisinart. I swear, after the dishwasher, the cuisinart is the best invention in the world. I do have some lust in m heart for a kitchenaid that does everything. A yellow one to match my kitchen.
I watched the conventions. Well, I couldn't stand to watch the RNC so I listened to bits on the radio. I did watch the DNC and boy, that Obama is one beautiful man. And he has a beautiful wife. As for the rest of the ongoing shit show, I have no words except disbelief. And sorrow.
I am making an extra effort to be kind and generous to all folks I encounter. My neighborhood had their annual 'Night Out' where we pull out the barbecue and bring potato salad and a store bought cheesecake and we hang out. My hood is everyone; Black, white, asian, hispanic. And we find out who lives down the street and which one of us has the black puppy and who has a fig tree in their back yard.
It's time to hit the lake for a swim. I'm lucky enough to be getting a massage and adjustment this afternoon. My body is getting old, I'll tell you what. And my work is tough on me sometimes. Keep moving is the trick, I think. As long as nothing hurts too much. The lake is vast and wonderful and I'll be able to see Mt Rainier while I swim. And maybe an eagle.
Thursday, July 14, 2016
Monday, July 11, 2016
While women were moving all of my ex's stuff out of my house (no, we never lived together, don't ask), I went for a very long hike to Annette Lake in the Cascades. Poor trail, overused by too many hikers, deep ruts and exposed roots. But beautiful. Many dogs.
Judith and I got caught up. We've known each other for 30 years. Sheesh.
Felix alternated between barking at ***anything*** and running back and forth to greet random hikers and their hiker dogs. Much mud on the trail so he came back bi-colored-white on top, black underneath.
Then read the horrible news in the NYT which I'd somehow managed to avoid during the week. I fear for us all. How to care for my tiny bit of the planet. How to hold the sadness and the despair.
http://www.nytimes.com/2016/07/10/opinion/sunday/what-white-america-fails-to-see.html?_r=0
Worked a 12 hour clinic day and now two women are in labor. I'm trashed from yesterday so I'm going to sleep and wait for a call.
Between the guns and the violence and the hatred and the presidential "campaign", I have nothing coherent to say. I bring in the babies. I try to be kind to their parents. I witness so much love and adoration in my job, I am humbled.
Life, somehow, goes on.
Judith and I got caught up. We've known each other for 30 years. Sheesh.
Felix alternated between barking at ***anything*** and running back and forth to greet random hikers and their hiker dogs. Much mud on the trail so he came back bi-colored-white on top, black underneath.
Then read the horrible news in the NYT which I'd somehow managed to avoid during the week. I fear for us all. How to care for my tiny bit of the planet. How to hold the sadness and the despair.
http://www.nytimes.com/2016/07/10/opinion/sunday/what-white-america-fails-to-see.html?_r=0
Worked a 12 hour clinic day and now two women are in labor. I'm trashed from yesterday so I'm going to sleep and wait for a call.
Between the guns and the violence and the hatred and the presidential "campaign", I have nothing coherent to say. I bring in the babies. I try to be kind to their parents. I witness so much love and adoration in my job, I am humbled.
Life, somehow, goes on.
Monday, July 04, 2016
Independence Day. Today the dawg and I went to town for breakfast and a romp on the beach where he got covered with sand. He was sand colored, no really. So back at the ranch, we had a shower together. Mournful dog, standing under the shower head, feeling so beleaguered and plagued by warm water and shampoo.
But.
In town I went to find a calendar and a Quan Yin for Jude's sweet home. There was a crystal/incense/chime-y store (you know the type) with the most enormous brown poodle lying around in the Edgar Cayce section. I thought he was a dog Buddha. The store owner encouraged me to bring Felix in to meet him. So, foolishly, I did. They barked, growled and sniffed each other. Felix spent some time baring his teeth at monster poodle who was being, well, saintly. So Felix pooped ON THE FLOOR of the store. Gawd. I took my calendar and Quan Yin and got outa there.
It was recommended that I go to a certain cafe for breakfast at the end of town on the pier. When I got there, there was a line and being a single gal, I thought, I'll be ignored so I turned to leave. Sitting by the counter was Peggy, my midwife buddy from forever ago. So I sat down in front of her and when she stopped yipping, she invited me to order and to meet to her new guy (who put away a prodigious amount of food, whoa) and we proceeded to tell birth stories and such. At the end, I scored a bite of steak for the dawg and two pieces of carrot cake from the back of Peggy's car. And here I was, thinking that this town is sure cute and quaint and a retirement possibility. However, it's mighty white, as in no POC, not any that I saw today.
It's early, overcast and I'm in Jude's pink bathrobe with clean hair, listening to music and looking out at the forest. On the way back to here, there was a deer by the road munching away. Common enough occurrence around here, I'm sure, but a sign that Rebecca's animal gods are watching over us fractured humans.
But.
In town I went to find a calendar and a Quan Yin for Jude's sweet home. There was a crystal/incense/chime-y store (you know the type) with the most enormous brown poodle lying around in the Edgar Cayce section. I thought he was a dog Buddha. The store owner encouraged me to bring Felix in to meet him. So, foolishly, I did. They barked, growled and sniffed each other. Felix spent some time baring his teeth at monster poodle who was being, well, saintly. So Felix pooped ON THE FLOOR of the store. Gawd. I took my calendar and Quan Yin and got outa there.
It was recommended that I go to a certain cafe for breakfast at the end of town on the pier. When I got there, there was a line and being a single gal, I thought, I'll be ignored so I turned to leave. Sitting by the counter was Peggy, my midwife buddy from forever ago. So I sat down in front of her and when she stopped yipping, she invited me to order and to meet to her new guy (who put away a prodigious amount of food, whoa) and we proceeded to tell birth stories and such. At the end, I scored a bite of steak for the dawg and two pieces of carrot cake from the back of Peggy's car. And here I was, thinking that this town is sure cute and quaint and a retirement possibility. However, it's mighty white, as in no POC, not any that I saw today.
It's early, overcast and I'm in Jude's pink bathrobe with clean hair, listening to music and looking out at the forest. On the way back to here, there was a deer by the road munching away. Common enough occurrence around here, I'm sure, but a sign that Rebecca's animal gods are watching over us fractured humans.
Sunday, July 03, 2016
Dears-
Thanks to my sweet Jude, I'm in a snug apartment in the woods by Port Townsend far away from the inevitable fireworks. The dog is panting and watching me, after we romped on a horse trail behind the cabin. There's no TV and the noise is mostly birds and wind in the trees. The owners live in the house across the way. They've got two big gentle dogs that Felix ran with.
We did have to wait for the ferry, a fact of life here in the NW. It was pretty pleasant with the NYT to read and treats to snack on.
Tomorrow I think we'll venture into town for breakfast and a long walk on North Beach, on the Strait of Juan De Fuca where there is an off-leash dog part. Felix will run his heart out and get full of sand. And tomorrow night, we'll see how noisy it actually is out here.
I'm full of gratitude to be here, away from the mad city. And work. And constant demands because of work. Time to continue to mend my heart. And meditate. Read and write.
Thinking about the kitty R adopted. Lucky critter because R has great compassion for the wounded and lost. This temporary life! As inexplicable as my actions regarding Houston are to her, I'm sure, it was an act of mercy for both of us. No harm if we are not together. I'm not interested in airing the particulars here. It's not an 'I'm right, she's wrong' situation. It's my pursuit of a peaceful and harmonious life that is most important now. At this age. I think I can have that. For the time remaining to me. Twenty years? Twenty months? Twenty minutes?
Now the trees are swaying and whispering outside the windows. Blessed forests, living and dying all together. O to be alive right now. Lucky, I'm very lucky.
Thanks to my sweet Jude, I'm in a snug apartment in the woods by Port Townsend far away from the inevitable fireworks. The dog is panting and watching me, after we romped on a horse trail behind the cabin. There's no TV and the noise is mostly birds and wind in the trees. The owners live in the house across the way. They've got two big gentle dogs that Felix ran with.
We did have to wait for the ferry, a fact of life here in the NW. It was pretty pleasant with the NYT to read and treats to snack on.
Tomorrow I think we'll venture into town for breakfast and a long walk on North Beach, on the Strait of Juan De Fuca where there is an off-leash dog part. Felix will run his heart out and get full of sand. And tomorrow night, we'll see how noisy it actually is out here.
I'm full of gratitude to be here, away from the mad city. And work. And constant demands because of work. Time to continue to mend my heart. And meditate. Read and write.
Thinking about the kitty R adopted. Lucky critter because R has great compassion for the wounded and lost. This temporary life! As inexplicable as my actions regarding Houston are to her, I'm sure, it was an act of mercy for both of us. No harm if we are not together. I'm not interested in airing the particulars here. It's not an 'I'm right, she's wrong' situation. It's my pursuit of a peaceful and harmonious life that is most important now. At this age. I think I can have that. For the time remaining to me. Twenty years? Twenty months? Twenty minutes?
Now the trees are swaying and whispering outside the windows. Blessed forests, living and dying all together. O to be alive right now. Lucky, I'm very lucky.
Saturday, July 02, 2016
Yesterday I made an entire blueberry pie for a friend and she took one piece home because we planned to eat pie after dinner but the restaurant where we ate gave us free dessert. All because one of the waitstaff was a mom we delivered. And she had to give us free dessert. Anyhoo.
So I'm stuck with an enormous almost whole pie. So just now because Kenny mowed my parking strip, he got a piece. And my next door neighbors Carol and Richard got two pieces. Carol asked me why and I told her because I love her. She admitted that as soon as I was gone from her yard, she would be eating both pieces because, after all, what Richard doesn't know won't hurt him.
I've had a piece for lunch and so there is much less pie. Holly and I are hiking tomorrow and I'm sure she'd like a piece.
So there you have it. Pie all around. If Cliff were home across the street, he'd get some. Well, too bad for him.
I visited the latest baby this morning-Marcus Langston Rivers. Now that's a name to be borne high and well. Right now he's a wee boy so he'll have to grow into his honorable name. His mother is, frankly, a queen. And I told her so.
So I'm stuck with an enormous almost whole pie. So just now because Kenny mowed my parking strip, he got a piece. And my next door neighbors Carol and Richard got two pieces. Carol asked me why and I told her because I love her. She admitted that as soon as I was gone from her yard, she would be eating both pieces because, after all, what Richard doesn't know won't hurt him.
I've had a piece for lunch and so there is much less pie. Holly and I are hiking tomorrow and I'm sure she'd like a piece.
So there you have it. Pie all around. If Cliff were home across the street, he'd get some. Well, too bad for him.
I visited the latest baby this morning-Marcus Langston Rivers. Now that's a name to be borne high and well. Right now he's a wee boy so he'll have to grow into his honorable name. His mother is, frankly, a queen. And I told her so.
Sunday, June 26, 2016
Dear ones-It's Pride Sunday in Seattle and the sky is a clear blue.
I'm not going to the parade. I'm going dancing with a few friends and then I think I'll take the dog somewhere for a walk.
I'm not getting married. I am, once again, a single person. I'm very sad about this but it was my decision to end it. As the months have gone by, it was clear that we couldn't communicate easily. There was too much drama. I began to be anxious and fearful and those feelings grew and grew. Yuck. I really tried. I feel so much relief and so much sorrow.
I would like to be partnered. I have learned that after this experience. I was fine before I met H and I will be again. I'm very grateful that she didn't move in, that we didn't marry. I'm free to think my own thoughts and have my own opinions without someone else criticizing or judging. Her need to control was greater than her fervent desire to be open hearted and vulnerable. Being with her brought up old family patterns that are no longer useful. Like stepping out of a dark prison into the light.
Yesterday a friend and I went for a gorgeous hike that took us far away from Seattle. The mountains is where I pray. And heal.
I'm not going to the parade. I'm going dancing with a few friends and then I think I'll take the dog somewhere for a walk.
I'm not getting married. I am, once again, a single person. I'm very sad about this but it was my decision to end it. As the months have gone by, it was clear that we couldn't communicate easily. There was too much drama. I began to be anxious and fearful and those feelings grew and grew. Yuck. I really tried. I feel so much relief and so much sorrow.
I would like to be partnered. I have learned that after this experience. I was fine before I met H and I will be again. I'm very grateful that she didn't move in, that we didn't marry. I'm free to think my own thoughts and have my own opinions without someone else criticizing or judging. Her need to control was greater than her fervent desire to be open hearted and vulnerable. Being with her brought up old family patterns that are no longer useful. Like stepping out of a dark prison into the light.
Yesterday a friend and I went for a gorgeous hike that took us far away from Seattle. The mountains is where I pray. And heal.
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
Angelic Mount Rainier
On Sunday, Holly and I hiked Rampart Ridge in the park and O it was glorious.
This sky is for all our darlings who died in Orlando. This is what we believe.
This sky is for all our darlings who died in Orlando. This is what we believe.
Saturday, June 18, 2016
Monday, June 13, 2016
Home from a candlelight vigil for those who have died and those injured in Orlando.
When I came out, the gay bar was the one place where we could go and feel safe, free, loved, ourselves, our true selves.
This morning I heard the news on the radio and what I saw was a Florida bar filled with beautiful men and women, dancing and flirting. Beautiful men with their shirts off. Women with tattoos and cowboy boots. Dancing with their sweethearts. Dancing because it's what you do on Saturday night/Sunday morning during Pride month. The sheer animal joy of moving to the music.
And then a man with an assault rifle took it all away. Killed and maimed over a 100 people. All that beauty gone. My gay brothers and sisters. Men and women who came out to their families ( or haven't come out to their families) with fear and worry. And some families embrace their gay children. Some don't. Maybe they were out at their jobs, maybe they hid who they were.
But the bar, the dance floor where they could move and express and feel such joy to be alive as they really are. To have that violated.
I spent the day with my loved ones, my queer friends, my girlfriend. I needed to be with my people. We are hated. We are feared. And sometimes we are killed in horrific ways. Like today.
When I came out, the gay bar was the one place where we could go and feel safe, free, loved, ourselves, our true selves.
This morning I heard the news on the radio and what I saw was a Florida bar filled with beautiful men and women, dancing and flirting. Beautiful men with their shirts off. Women with tattoos and cowboy boots. Dancing with their sweethearts. Dancing because it's what you do on Saturday night/Sunday morning during Pride month. The sheer animal joy of moving to the music.
And then a man with an assault rifle took it all away. Killed and maimed over a 100 people. All that beauty gone. My gay brothers and sisters. Men and women who came out to their families ( or haven't come out to their families) with fear and worry. And some families embrace their gay children. Some don't. Maybe they were out at their jobs, maybe they hid who they were.
But the bar, the dance floor where they could move and express and feel such joy to be alive as they really are. To have that violated.
I spent the day with my loved ones, my queer friends, my girlfriend. I needed to be with my people. We are hated. We are feared. And sometimes we are killed in horrific ways. Like today.
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