mouse in a teacup

I bought a sketch book and some pencils the other day. It was not a leisurely purchase, it was a necessary purchase.

I'm not a pencil and paper artist, if you want to be technical. In fact, I think my drawings are somewhat child-like and (I think) rather uninteresting. However, I was compelled to go to the store and purchase these items, and have had this incredibly deep need to have these things close at hand. I drew some pictures, nothing really special, and there was no epiphany hidden in the images, but I needed to see them.

It is my life raft of sorts. Sometimes the words are too much. There are too many in such a small space and I can't filter them out or understand them, so I hide from them, and maybe that is what I was doing. Hiding from them in the sketch book, knowing I needed some sort of relief, a valve to let out the pressure, and coloring was about as much as I could handle.

I can seldom figure out what I'm doing anymore from one day to the next. I know I have to wake up, shower, get dressed, put makeup on, do my hair, tend the children go to work. I have all the mindless details perfectly in place, but I am somewhere else. Somewhere very far away desperately trying to find a path back to my life. It is times like this that I'm grateful for so many details to distract my mind, although I'm not sure if it is the distraction in which I find solace. It could be the simple motion of the actions, keeping the body moving because being too still hurts.

I'm a lucky person in many respects, and I have a lot to be grateful for. I know life is just hard, for all of us, and that getting through it fairly unscathed the point of existence. Sometimes I feel like a mouse in a teacup trying to stay afloat in a raging ocean.... now.. where is my sketch book?

And if you happen upon this place today....

Then please go here... and say a prayer, or two or three.

Annika is out of surgery with her new liver in place and is in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit, aka PICU.

Now we wait and watch... and of course pray and send healing vibes...

xo

If you happen upon this place tonight ...

Then please go here... and say a prayer, or two or three.

There is a child who passed today whose parents made a beautiful and brave decision through intense grief to allow another child a chance at life. Organ donation is a bitter sweet gift, and all involved need love and support and prayers.

A very kind person named Tina led me to Moreena's blog when my son Jay was very ill and went into Pediatric Acute Liver Failure. Jay was lucky, he recovered with his liver and is thriving.

Moreena's little girl Annika is being prepared for her third liver transplant tonight.

If you spend a little time over at her place you will find yourself lost in Moreena's words which reflect her incredible love for her family and her indelible courage, and you will fall madly in love with her beautiful little girls.

So please, if you happen upon this place tonight, then please go here... and say a prayer, or two or three.

I'll take........ that one !!!!!

Holier than thou?

I spend a lot of time filling holes the within myself created by my past. I have tried to fill these holes with food, with wine, with romance (real and imagined) and I usually just end up feeling empty and never truly satisfied.I'm not sure where the notion of having to fill these holes came from. I think it's ingrained in our psychological society that we cannot be whole with holes, but I wonder.

I don't think these holes of our past can ever be truly filled with any element in our present or our future. The only way they can be mended is to never be formed in the first place, and if they never could truly be filled then why not just embrace them? What is wrong with being porous? All of nature is porous, nothing in existence is truly solid, not even existence.

Maybe these holes are what makes me...me. They are what distinguishes and create who I am. When the wind blows through them, I could (and usually did) succumb to the sad tones of the hollowness I hear or I can embrace this music of myself. I am more than just these sad tones, I am a symphony of joyous sounds celebrating life.

I'm not going to try to fill the holes anymore. I'm going to leave them agape and imperfect. I'm going to let the energy of the universe flow through them and see what beautiful music it creates.

invisible?

I was having lunch in the employee cafeteria the other day. Usually the women sit at one table and the men sit at another. There is always one brave woman who sits among the men and one brave man who sits among the woman. A coworker at my table asked if any of us had read the story in the paper about women over a certain age being invisible.

"Huh?"

She went on to explain how the article said that women over 50 were invisible to society, and some of the women (who were in this age bracket) sighed with resolve, in fact stating they have been invisible since they were in their 40's...

"HUH???? Invisible to whom?" I said.

"oh, mostly men, I guess," she said.

I decided to add a bit more than my usual 2 cents....

"Men? No love, not real men. Invisible to mindless, masturbating juveniles who cannot see that women over 40 are the sexiest creatures alive who are not only are self assured and comfortable in their own skin, but they know what pleases them and how to please. AND these deliciously, salacious ladies could care a less about being ignored be these 'men' as they already wasted enough of their time ignoring them when they were desperately trying to gain their favor."



(cricket cricket)



"So anyone try the new salad bar today?"

Then I remembered why I preferred lunch in my office...

still

not ready

to write about you.

to think about life,
without you
to wonder how we will
all survive
without you

not ready.

to see how the world
keeps going,
how life moves forward
in your absence,
to watch the children
grow
not knowing you

not ready.

to smell your cologne and
see you suits hanging

or to see your ties,

not ready.

I may never be ready

to face that you are gone
without my heart trying
to burst through my chest

to know that I am alone
in this world without
your protection.

to let you go...
no.
no.

not ready.

~~~~~~~~~

Happy Birthday Dad.. miss you.. xoxoxo