Selective Destiny

The 41 club.
My doll.
The fact that my friend Tory is a forest fairy.
Wallie & Steven
My beautiful gold cards.
The seasons of my youth.
The Library experience.
Esalen... for real?
Rhythms and Eurythmy.
Rhythms & breathing.
Books. Author. Bodywork.
Get back up on the horse, walk, meditate, track the circle of the sun and the light it hits.
Sing to the birds.
Build garden houses.
Write, read, breathe, walk, run, dance, sing, be.


Making Things

I'd like to make this...
Now, if only time rolled along for me but stopped everything else for a bit.


Just because & why not?

I went to a women's writing group this eve- as I came about it in a serendipitous way I figured I would try and go.
We are all so very different, the 5 of us, and with writing bringing us together it just might work.

Next meeting, 2 weeks and I shall have something to read aloud to this new audience. I am looking for prompts as to which of my many ideas I will go with to develop and...why not...consulted my Purpose cards as I found them frighteningly right on the mark twice now. I was called an Oracle by the younger set so it seemed fitting to get the cards for our weekend away.

Tonight, I asked what to dream about, a three card spread. And, this is what came up.

We shall see if I can remember.

Until then, stories abound!


10 minutes at the end of Friday

Friday night, weekend away. A place in some dry hills, cooler temperatures, farm animal sounds drifting through the air.
I wondered about doing my 10 minutes here, out loud, rather than in the book by hand.
It is so easy to delete here - which I have already done so. The waste - of time - or space - of stuff. It is a waste that I wonder what will happen with the stuff. Is there anything to do with the stuff?
Yet, all in all, it really doesn't matter if I do anything with it or if I do not. Just that I sit here and time the 10 so that I can fulfill my goal - the idea is in the practice.

Not drinking alcohol amongst so many who do is a string of moments to write about.
In this moment, I sit in my bunk, next to the window and nearest a door, as intended, with a party of sorts going on outside and around the corner and a quiet space in here for myself and two others. We do not talk. We are alone with ourselves yet I wonder if they feel my presence as strongly as I feel theirs?
In this moment I am thinking if this is unique to me and perhaps why I like to be alone so often - unburdened then by the intake of all their projecting. Information stretching out from their pores and beyond like a wave hitting me
and I sputter
trying to breathe
and still hold my own self afloat.
Yet, in this manner,
who am I?
Just the flotsam reacting to their jetsam.
vice versa
it really does not seem to matter.

And this phrase - about the phrase it doesn't really matter - which has been spoken a lot, this is what is on my mind now and how I have used it for effect rather than gathering together my intentions and feelings (both before and/or after) on what I wanted to say. Am I cruel to myself on purpose? Is it because as another mentioned in the circles today that I am still procesing the way in which I was developed before I was even born?

I have been exhausted by all the thoughts lately - all the plots for happiness and 100 days of this or that.
Why not just be by myself and live amongst my own thoughts to see how I really am?
Then I wonder about the other component - the relationships with others - would these come to me on my own accord or do we live seeing the supposed perfect scenario and mimic without thinking.

Am I really just this debbie downer when around people all the time dowm deep and joyful when alone in the deciduous forest?
Do I care to stretch the moments together to test out the theory?
does it even really matter?

thoughts going round and round with 11 days to go.



Wrote for 10.
Plank for 60.
10 squats.
Read a book.
Cooked dinner & didn't set table or clear.
Got little boy to bed after bath & books in time.
House clean.
Yard ok.
Halloween decorations in progress.
Talked with friend.
Planned a future event.
Daydreamed a fun scenario.
12 days till 42.
12 days till tipsy.
12 days to get through 41.
Took a photo.
Walked the dog.
Laughed with a big boy.
Thought about decorating improvements.
Sat in the shade.
Concentrated on breathing.
Did a good deed.
Planned a better one.
Experienced a creative moment.
A random postcard brought me to tears.
Received a compliment.
...all in this day.


New found self

Although not writing here doesn't mean not writing anywhere
tho diligent I may not have been.

Discovered a place where my efforts on paper can be appreciated
by me

spent 4 hours on an agenda
feel confident
and free.

It seems as if that little voice
whispering upon my shoulder
when not shushed by the no-can-dos
actually can do.

with the reminder
that I do not need to guess
the ending
For anyone else but me
I can live free.

Last challenge before 4:15am
find a passage of harmonious truth
to share with other souls




Meditation is up to 7 minutes,  yikes!

Still haven't written the gratitude letters, making no good clear time for myself...

Writing sporadically, almost every day however in Evernote and not here.

Fell back in old habits, kicked them out (sort of).

Back walking almost every day.

Interested in this 6 month permaculture class, ohmygee- it would be amazing.

School begins this week and I find myself wanting more in-house-alone-time... big boy needs a job.

Byron Katie is amazing. Keep folowing.

Mountains & ocean, who can choose?

Trees, trees, it is all about the trees.



Days till something happens,
Days till nothing happens.

All the signs point in one direction
I look away.

The ground, 
My footing,
My heart,
My eyes,

My bags,





The Sewing Room

material is what I bring to the table.
cloths so thick with it

and some threadbare
downright invisible.

and me
wrapped in tapestry
with bells
and a sideways smirk
which hides
on the inside...

of those,
I have lots.


The Giving Tree

and then the heavens broke
and I was busy
and there were jobs to do
and places to go
and a friend
and I was happy.

The park
a haven for interactions
dreaming of putting in
a little library.


Pixie Dust

Isn't it amazing
when I focus on the shortcomings
the negatives
the problems
all I see
are problems

I seek out what I like,
that what likes me comes back.



Byron Katie = amazing.
pixie dust was sprinkled
and then she hands you the jar.

in thanks
I sprinkle my toes
so I have some wherever I go.


Awake and Dreaming

The twins in the teak cottage
amid the ferns

they work
side by side.

And I
on a tree lined balcony
the city spread out beneath
with the white Persian cat weaving between my ankles.

The coffee is hot
and the cinnamon still swirling.

I am looking off into the clouds
and feel the mist
from the leaves
from the depths
from the forest floor
so far away
so far away

the newspapers will arrive
and I will have some such thing
want to read to me about how the day was done
I already know
because I wrote it.

in the octtage,
the walls speak.


Day 1 of year 24

anger or annoyance?

Bubbling, building.
gaining focus.
clearer thoughts coming together.

today I saw the white cat about my ankles
crossing from left to right in the mirror of my dressing room.
when I looked down, she was gone.
the persian princess had been smiling.

uncertain about where to be one thing vs another in my world of boxes,
I muddle things up and can not keep them straight everytime.
equally frustrating.

A lesson which finally resonated enough to stick was that it is the practice and not exactly making it to the finish that counts the most.
Perhaps I knew this as the medals held no triumph for me.
for some reason,
just saturday
on a new trail
with a different band of women
mist still hanging in the sky
awaiting bright dawn light
I heard it again and it struck.
The practice
is where the perfect is found
and not
the other way around.


I must articulate myself wisely.

reading a book by Jean Shinoda Bolen
daydreams about visits to greece
research of history vs. mythology
aching to touch maps and follow the lines of streams

It feels good to have a daydream.
The good is in the practice.

Also, had an idea for a short.

The tale of Artemis, the twin of Apollo
being withheld from her father until it was safe to meet him
and amused he asked her what she wished:
A bow and arrows,
and to find them herself.
Nymphs to follow her
and to find them herself.
Hounds to protect her
and to find them herself.
And the perfect woods, streams, meadows...
and to find them herself.
Laughing, the delighted God granted her this
and off she went.

The hunt for each item as exciting as the item itself
and lost in creating her own world she was.



What Gives?

Doom & gloom.
I always thought it was him,
it very well may be me.


Took a day off from writing, etc, due to a bad food experience and yes, found how easy it is to rack up another excuse. Didn't walk for 2 days, feel awful. Boo.

Going back to thoughts on being media free for awhile again... there is just so much noise coming in and not enough concentration on me.

Delving into what is authentic
is it ok to live in denial for a huge section?
I know the answer as I write this...
yet why do I shy away from truth?
would I council anyone else to live like this?


Stuck in crud. Of my own design.
for 30 years now...


Eve of Thursday

My new favorite food.

Dreaming of Persia
and Greece
and Sands

The Bedouin.


I ccok a meal
I dream of wine
the prefect compliment
to my date.


when ideas come

It has been a dry spell for ideas I think because I have been quite down on myself lately. My relationships are not what i expect them to be.
I am not what I expected to be. ..
upon further investigation it turns out I just don't want to work hard for it.
That is ok if I was willing to settle but since I am not,  I am my own royal pain.
Just fabulous.

So,  enter meditation and walking and enforced writing. ..
enter ideas of being in that tiny house by the sea (I can hear the waves crashing even if the train rumbles close by & my neighbors wear underoos in the daytime. Big whoop).
or maybe the mountain one is right for me.
tap, tap, tap go the fingers on the keys
coffee and cinnamon please
a garden
a cat
birds chirping
some swirly skirts
a beaded arm
early mornings on the beach
the bite on a juicy peach

Blah blah
and more blah.
why didn't this publish on time?
dunno, just keep going.

checking the boxes

Made a new meal (kale & roasted carrot salad w/feta, dates and walnuts)

Renewed interest in eatoeating raw.
reading about 5 books at a time:
women's circles
women's quests in mid-life
raw eating
saving the family cottage
men are from Mars, women are from Venus
(Thanks, Gisela)

Mary Oliver haunts me,
as does Jean Shinoda Bolen.

Thinking up what I would do if I could do anything... start that leucadia beach circle on Sunday eve
do I really want to be there every Sunday eve?

Seeking a partner in crime for shenanigans...
looking forward to champagne, Dirty martinis, and that freaking mango margarita.

Salt lamp, check.
meditation up to 5 minutes
cracked my self out of bed this am reluctantly however always so glad to go out.
love the cloudy skies, marine layer, fog.
too much sun for me!

23 years ago I had a baby.


The Inkling


Here I am again.

I understand a reason why I am unable to fully live this life and
it seems
that many others have known this all along.

Dressing it up,
Reading books,
engaging in diversions
even quite intricate
don't change much.
resorting to
coloring the glasses.

When the mind is made up
it is made up
even if there is dress up.
because I love dress up.

I had an inkling.
And it rages.
I am good at closing doors
and walking down other hallways.




Always a dilemma on how to run this day.
Had a tough time kicking yself out of the bed the morning to walk but I am always so glad I do afterwards.

Lazy breakfast, errands, fighting a nap, beach afternoon with sunset bonfire, roasted divver over the flames and smores with neighbors... not a bad ending at all.

Fighting sleep now but still have to do almost all on my "list."

Had a  nice time this morning reading and communing with myself while boys were at yoga.

All in all, a lovely day, even if the end results are still a fight away.


this week

Meditations are getting easier.
That its good news.

I cooked a new meal,  sweet orzo salad w/feta & carnelized peaches. It was from Hello Fresh, a food prep delivery service.  I really like the idea if this thing however all organic coves would be key.  Their packaging is far better than the competitor Blue Apron. Regardless, I realized I like orzo lots However the peaches were sort of odd and I am not a fan of cucumber either.  I'll toss the recipe but retain the interest in pursuing orzo.

Mailed package to Balin, Happy Birthday! 23, holy crap. What was I doing 23 what's ago?  Better yet, what was I doing 24 years ago? yikes.  Getting older is...interesting...

Got further in on my story idea.
General gist its down with some motivations still need to bete worked out.  Not to bad.

Got re-interested in a writing group.
Reading a book about women's circles... Perhaps there is a connection?

Trouble waking up to walk because of late bedtime.  Love dawn. Must get up.  Boo.

That's the news i'm willing to blab...



i just don't know what I should be doing.
Perhaps because I have always had those things that I needed to do
and now I have time.
Time when I thought I would be finally able to get my own thing done
and I am frozen.

I think in prose
dream about painting
see myself writing songs
imagine the dresses and beads and braids
I don't challenge the status quo
yet I allow myself to be dreary because of it
my excuse.
the great "it"
whatever it is.

and on and on and on and on and on.

I have many things bursting to be said yet
can not.
the topic is too much of a challenge to handle
i can not manage how my audience would hear it
and I don't believe myself strong enough to care

so, I sit.
and I do the dishes
and I get fat
and I allow it.

All the news talks of doomsday
and I wait for it
under that type of duress
my skkills would shine.

I live the life that people die for
that people are dying for
in droves
every day



A night under the stars
ocean crashing a deep blue
sandy hair
smiling cheeks

Sometimes what is missing
is the nature right in front of me.

Am I going to live this close to the great Pacific ocean forever?
most likely no.
so, more visits are in order.

Plan to be spontaneous
and go Sundays & Wednesday afternoon/evenings
And swim with the fishies.

Yeah, I realize, after reading this over, that I am a very big waste of space.
Time to figure out what for!

Ponderous Things

Is there anything about me
That makes me Me?

Where do my fabrications end
And my truth begin?

All people can be all things

Proving to myself
Being for the world

Mother vs. Wife

Husband vs. Son

Set about a writing schedule


Not Them, it's Me.

It's not them, it is me. Truly.

In all cases, when I see something that I find aggravating, I can find the same issues within my own practice.


It is a pain having to always watch myself. To always be checking to see if I am screwing up somehow.  Then, I turned 40 and said so what?  That was liberating.

Now, I am backtracking a bit to see where I did things that I wanted to do by choice rather than by situational outcomes that just sort of "happened."  Ugh. Do I need to do this?  No.  So, why am I?
Why not just dance and sing and admire the flowers all day long?

Somewhere inside me the same issues keep coming back up and I would like to unpack the baggage and look at it one last time before tossing it overboard.  Some bags are already gone. What bags?  Some things... double ugh.

I pretty much have an answer for everything.
Perhaps this is why I am annoying. There are many reasons, I am sure, and I don't really care much anymore.

I just would like to talk to someone aside from my own wayward self sometimes. And it is crickets in my home... Crickets.

Well, working on it.

This book I am reading now "Carry On Warrior, Thoughts On Life Unarmed" has far too many sections with undeniuably resonate with me.  Ugh.  (how many uggghs is that?)

I highly recommend reading.

Dear Future Me: keep reading.




...workking on it.

There is a school of thought out here in southern Californis that your thoughts can remap your mind.  That there are no bad days.  Awesome.

Yet, what about when there are?

Well, in walks Byron Katie to show the unschooled how to really and truly believe what is true..

However, what is left are all the disjointed thoughts that are not proven to be true yet still magnetized by some brain activity - perhaps the subconsciousness - and when can one draw the line at who they are if it isn't what one thinks?

Turned around and upside down yet... does it really even matter?

Today, a good day.
Tomorrow, another.


Thinking, Reminiscing

The past two weeks have been full of thoughts- some focused and many just clouds passing by...

One cloud took a detached look at my ideas on who these boys of mine are and my parenting, so very different, of each one.

One cloud wondered what else I needed to DO for them. This one had an emphatic tone. I found myself struggling. Then, I watched the cloud pass by. I believe I had to allow it to pass or I would have spent hours dwelling, fliking up dream space with chatter.

Pass along, clouds. How varied you are. How you turn from whimsy to tricky back to just thin air.

Sometimes the clouds gather to rain.
I love rain.


Settling Truths

Sinking into the tasks however not yet in my own rhythm so it is a bit taxing to forget and remind myself and think if I did all those things.

I have a plan to work on organization aspects to get my intentions for efficient work down. I like this. So, even if I balk at the process sometimes, the overall outcome is favorable. I must remember this and apply it to further reaching aspects.

Planks. Ugh. My friend Connie is up to 4 minutes. That is a heck of a lot of seconds.
If she can do it I must as well. so far, 40 seconds is fine for me.
Looking forward to a more secure schedule in September when more physical activity both regimented and spontaneous can continue.

What I have learned: Once a day is far easier than three times a week or monday-friday. Every Day, Get on it.

I love books and reading obscure things. Randon tangents that flow into each other while perusing the shelves at the Library are an interesting benchmark of what is going on in my head. I have been taking photos of the bedside table about twice a month. Too many scattered blogs - I may add them all up in once place here.  Gah, I do so like organizing and streamlining!

Looking forward to getting home Sunday afternoon. My time in NYC has been wonderful on so many levels that I don't even want to flush them all out. Just humming happily. Walking the streets for blocks and blocks is simply wonderful. I have missed it. My love affair with Central Park continues to grow. In one of my college classes at SLC in 2008 I took a class called Death & Mourning. My research project was about burial practices in America 1900-2000 and I stumbled upon the history and development of city graveyards which spilled into parks. Thank you, gentleman who's name I can not remember, who decided there had to be trees. They are simply fabulous.  My youngest boy and I picked wild blackberries in the ramble. We saw swimming turtles. It was glorious.

With that, goodnight fom NYC. One day left them off to CA I go.

Next week, house shakedown (pick the damn wall colors already & make the studio).



So the day doors indeed go a bit better when tasks are done first,  or early,  and checked off.

Also,  I do so like organization and expect to try a paper weekly calendar upon arrival home.

Feeling better about the plank and meditation and man do I love the walk...especially here in nyc, however time for myself is lacking even with a task list/goal.

I am getting a plan together for when my little friend goes back to school. 

All in all,  progress,  and nothing bad or especially hard.  Yay.


Reality vs.

So the plan was a challenge even before a word was written.
I did accomplish all tasks yesterday as my day 1 and there were parts of it that sucked. As in, no ideas I had to write about ended up, when finally sitting down to write them, passing the internal "is it good enough" test.

This is a thing.
Something to get over.
A hurdle like this is practice as it comes up again and again.
Each time will be practice.

Time to meditate.
Ugh & om.


Making Way for Me in 2016

So I flitter around without really doing anything or saying anything - sort of just waiting for things to happen.  I feel stuck in this beautiful life and it goes by differently than half of me would like. For a little experiment, I have decided to see what happens with a little experiment.

I am giving myself a test.
For the remainder of 2015 in order to get my head and heart on the same page, to further and more specifically define my goals and to find out about exactly where I want to go and what I need to do to get there I committ to the tasks below.

Every day until December 31, 2015 I will:
Write for at least 30 minutes.
Plank, stretch, squat.
Brisk walk or run.

I also committ to:
Write and send out at least one gratitude letter each week.
Cook a new meal at least once a week.

I committ to documenting this here.
Every day.


mountain dreaming

I have an idea.
a certain set of thoughts that gets stuck, looping, around in my head that I am not able to shake clear without consideration.
I love the idea.

I am in strawberry.
making it work.
it is hard work and i need some hard work.
i need to fix problems that arise and make things beautiful.
i need to draw a crowd of people and learn from them - hear their stories - and create my own.,

the opportunity of summer is looming and I feel like I must go there from day 1 through as long as possible.

although my favorite time would be summer turning into the new year, i will take what i can get.

how to again push away what i long for?
again to crumple up a dream?

it isn't like we are living a dream for any other - my spouse does not seem to have a dream except not working and that is just preposterous.

so, what to do?
go to pilates.
that is something that strawberry wont have.
without me making it.
go and be here and love it while you are here.
who knows how long there is amongst this beauty?


sounds and feeling

and echoing
and taking up all the space that the dream was inside my head,
that lucid space
the swiss cheese holes they filled with music
and then became
all consumed
by it

and then i cried
for a moment
and then i spoke.
taking me as more important
for i would die
by my own hand
if i didn't get this bit down.