If I owned the perfect GPS, I hope it would direct me to my New Home.  Because I am without a home and want a place to puff up my not yet purchased inflatable bed.  So I can rest my weary body and perhaps turn off my over-processing mind.

Today I discovered that the address that I had thought belonged to my new place of employment, which was the address I have centered my rental search around, hoping to find a place close to or within walking distance of, is not even the address where I will be working.  It was instead, the administrative office address ~ 15 minutes away from where I will actually be showing up for work 5 days per week.  Fifteen minutes.  Not many minutes.  Unless those minutes are on a freeway or located on twisty twiney roads.

I am ready to find and secure my new-to-me home.

Please GPS, point me in the right direction.

We arrived today early afternoon to this hoped-to-be-my-new-home, land.  My daughter and I.  The two of us after having braved the 3,000+ mile drive south from the Land of the Last Frontier aka Land of the Mostly Frozen and Dark.  Yes.  The two of us, mother and daughter, drove my car who goes by the name of Little Guy aka LG, down the oft times twisty twiney highway from Alaska to the Land of Sunshine & Current Drought.  This drive encompassed 6 calendar days with daily drive times between 10-13 hours, through sun, high wind, rain, snow, sleet, hail, fog, smoke, thunder and lightening.  The terrain was breathtaking and wild animals ~ bunnies, bison, black bear, moose, elk, deer, porcupine, skunk ~ as well as domestic animals ~ sheep, goats, cows, horses, donkeys ~ were abundant.

My daughter will depart on Tuesday and I will stay, here.  Alone.

But between now and then, I have this Daughter of Mine with me for two whole days.  Two additional days.  And you can bet that I will be cherishing ~ savoring ~ every one of those moments.  I will also be benefiting from her support while I feverishly search for a rental.

Let the games continue.  And dear Universe, please help me enjoy this game.

That’s how my heart and general chest area feel right now.  Clenched.  Like it’s being squeezed in a vice grip causing shallow breathing, furrowed brow and a paralysis of my body, mind and spirit.  Fear.  So palpable.  And even with all the sayings about fear not being real or what we fear is really nothing but our projections of reality, which are not real ~ even with all of that ~ I sit in fear this moment.  The moments have strung together for some days and weeks now with occasional respites of sleep, although of the troubled sort, and temporary bouts of trust and faith in Universal goodness and my own capabilities.  Mostly, I have been locked in a clenched position for some time.

In less than a week I plan on being on the road heading south.  Away from my current every day life, job, family, friends and familiar surroundings.  I am choosing this move.  I am not being sent away to a prison facility against my will.  This is an adventure, another chapter in the life of me.  A chance to begin anew.  Even knowing that all of this is true, my chest remains clenched.  Breath, shallow.

Oh faith, please return.  Breathe deep.  And again.

We think we know.  We swear we know.  We know we know.  And yet we don’t know a damned thing.

At least I know at this point in my life that I don’t know nothing about nothing and that I am merely a student on this Earth Plane.  As I prepare to leave everything that I have known and strike out on another Highway of Life Road, all by myself with just me, myself and I as a constant companion, I truly mean it when I say ~ I know nothing.

Today, as I culled through box after box of ‘important’ paperwork, journals, calendars, memorabilia, tax returns, job evaluations, graduate research, graduate papers, recipes, photographs, a lifetime of letters, cards (birthday, congratulations, condolences and holidays), car titles, car repairs, rental applications, adoption research, book proposals, undergraduate papers and evaluations and art proposals ~ I couldn’t help but think, Oh My God.  OMGosh, I did all of this?  And immediately, OMGosh, this is all there is to a life of many years?

Because for all that I have attempted, achieved, failed to fulfill ~ what I have (or had) were boxes and boxes of paper.

My shared apartment dumpster is full.  To the brim.

Yes. When coming up on the “Y” in the road, run; as fast as your legs or your motorized vehicle can take you.  But first one must blast themselves past or at least out of the paralysis or quick sand or vice grip that has them frozen in time and space.  That is, if one is akin to me.

I am preparing to begin anew.  Starting all over.  Again.  And yet it’s all brand new because I have never started over in quite the same fashion that I am now.  I am moving out of state to begin a new job.  I am leaving behind my family, my friends, my soon to be former work colleagues, 99% of my material belongings, my comfort zone and my current geographic surroundings, which for all intents and purposes are pretty dang astounding.

I have done all of the above or the aforementioned, before.  And yet, not quite like this.  The differences being = I am older in age; not tethered or anchored to a primary partner; and, the biggest difference is the intention fueling these changes.  I am choosing for the very first time in my life to put down roots and grow a life, both personally and professionally, in my new home state.  More specifically, my intention is to actually live, thrive, contribute and build a full and satisfying life where I land.  In other words, this intentional move is HUGE.

When are all of these changes occurring?  Right now, baby.  Right now.


That is after I locate the match or lighter to ignite the bundle of dynamite required to blast myself into action.  Cuz this ain’t no magical thinking deal, no godmother genie gonna come up in here and sort, pack up and deliver all of my material belongings to their new homes with other folks.  Nope.  That’s all on me.  Gotta get her done and in a hurry.  Come on self.  You can do it!


You know that old saying, the one that goes something like, be careful for what you wish, you might just receive it or some such thing.  I have never been a big fan of that particular saying.  As life seems to enjoy a good laugh or two, at my expense (or so it seems), this week I have heard myself iterating this phrase and then I suppose reiterating the same saying.  Because I did make a wish and I am, indeed, receiving said wish.

In fact, I did more than send a wish into the Universe.  I crafted an invitation.  An invitation to a celebration, a party if you will in honor of myself.  Yes.  You read that correctly.  I, as in me, myself and I.  A celebration of MY LIFE to coincide with one of my favorita days of the year Summer Solstice (the other favorita days of the year, Winter Solstice).  I crafted this invitation and then sent it out into the Universe to invitees both local and to those who live in what we fondly refer to as the Lower 48, even though there are 49 other states in the Union.  Some folks may be wondering what are we even considering here?  What’s the big deal?  Where’s the problem?  What is this post even about?  Well, read further dear blogging friends and I will further bare my fragile vulnerable underbelly of neurosis.

In sending this invitation, I was telling myself Number One, that I am valuable enough and could possibly be important enough to someone(s)’ that they would/will take time out of their lives to journey North to celebrate my life.  For those invitees from Outside there would/will be the travel expense, which is no small ‘taters.  The moment I hit the send button on my email invitation the anxiety that had already built to about a 4 on a 1-10 scale, hit about an 8.  That old and tired but loud whiny voice of who do you think you are little Missy and you are a selfish self-centered little girl aren’t you today blah blah blah took over.  Thankfully, before this part of me could overtake me and tackle me into the mud, I began receiving responses to my invitation within a half hour of its flight.

Thus, this week has been a life lesson of opening my heart again and again to the love that is there for me to receive.  Although overwhelming, I remind myself that I am a growed up woman, as my adoptive mother used to say about herself.  And a little or even a lot of overwhelm over receiving a lot of love from family and friends is some thing a growed up woman can handle on any given day.

My heart is full.

My heart is full and expanding.

This is where I've been in between my clinical work with clients ~

Oh my gosh, I have been absent for far too long from my beloved blog. My absence has not been due to laziness, lack of interest on my part, being in a pissed off mood at the blogging community or a churlish attitude in general.  Here is the true unvarnished, un-spun, authentic deal ~ I have been ill, very ill, for a very long time.  For over two years now.  I have shared about my Unwanted and Un-invited Bastard Buddy Vertigo (BBV) who swooped in for an extended visit and decided not to depart, right?  Well, nine months ago a new uninvited health hazard Bastard arrived on my doorstep and the BBV invited him into my home and my body.

All of this is to say, that I have been fighting, literally, for my ability to remain in my physical self on this Earth plane.  However, when I finally hit the lowest of my low a couple of months ago, I chose to re-claim my healing and to stop looking outward to supposed “experts” such as Western medicine and naturopaths, etc., who were not helping, to say the very least.  I also made the decision to place the focus of my energies on my spiritual practices and return to my creative writing and visual art, both of which spark my will to live and make the most meaning in my life.  Throughout this entire journey, I have continued to work and provide psychotherapy services to adolescent youth and their families.

I have missed my little blog.  I have missed being a part of the blogging community and the connections I have made here.  I maintain a Facebook account using my legal name, however, due to the nature of my professional life, am not comfortable co-mingling the two worlds.  What I am hoping is that now that I have taken this step of writing a post today that I will be more active once again with my little blog.  Most likely not daily but more frequently than once every quarter.

I am thrilled to report that my creative writing is on fire and there is much movement in that area.  There is goodness in this world and even though my faith and spirits come and go and I am a fickle creature, I do believe that my struggles are not in vain.  Sending out love, compassionate caring and peaceful energy in these early morning hours this Saturday morning.

I was asked yesterday by a brand new acquaintance what my relationship status was.  Meaning, I gathered, was I involved, taken, belonging to another, tied up, tied down, bogged down, in a rut, newly wedded, deliriously happy, passionately satieted, or barren, bereft, afloat, alone, blissfully single, between partners, or simply untethered from the demands of another human being in an ongoing relationship.  Out of the multitude of responses at my disposal, here were the words which sprang from my lips ~ my heart is wide open.


For anyone who has been a follower of this blog for any length of time, you might get it like in, right away, that this was an atypical response for me given my life’s journey this past couple of years.  But there it was.  The words said, passed from and over my lips.

And what is more, as I have had time to ponder, which obviously I have taken the time to do, I realize that the words are a true reflection of said heart.  The said heart ~ my heart ~ the one that is, indeed, open ~ much to my surprise and actual delight.

Hearts, spirits, beliefs, values ~ all have a funny little way of making changes, often times profound, sometimes in small ways, sometimes in big leaps and bounds ~ stealthily, silently, quietly, slowly, or just plain simply ~ and then our mind’s get a great big old WTF awakening.  And then we adjust, metabolize the alterations and carry on.

that’s what Natalie Goldberg, my favorite of all time writer gurus says, just write.  Just do it, man.  or in my case, woman.  Put pen to paper.  Finger tips to keyboard.  Pencil to cardboard.  Fingers to the air.  Just do it.  Right now.  Right here.  No excuses.  No stopping.  No monkey mind.   That’s what Goldberg calls that part of our brain that distracts us and pulls us right and left up and down and then all zig zaggy.  When all the time, our original intention was to sit down and write out a page or two or ten or the poem of our life.

This Saturday evening, I am attending a Literary Salon.  Sounds fancy, huh?  At least it does to me.  I joined a local writer’s group earlier this year, it could have been last year, it was in the dark months of winter that much I remember.  I am not much of a joiner in the way of joining groups.  I used to be.  A joiner of political groups.  I railed against all sorts of human injustices and fought hard for human and individual rights for a long long time.  And then I grew weary.

Back to my current subject of the fancy sounding upcoming Literary Salon.  I am excited.  Nervous.  But more excited.  The event is being held at someone’s home whom I have never met.  And here’s the really cool and brave part, I volunteered to read some of my writing.   The organizers were looking for 10 volunteers to read 5 minutes of their work.  Since most of my essays are more than two pages long, I quickly decided to read a few selections from my body of erotica poetry.  That is, until I spoke with the main organizer who informed me that there will be children present.  Good to know.  So onto Plan B.  or Actually C.

I have chosen four other poems to read and have been practicing the timing of the reading and introduction to the pieces to fit within the five minute allotment.  Five minutes goes by really fast!

This will be good for me.  Meeting other writers.  Being inspired by their work in progress.  Sharing a part of myself that has been dormant for far too long.

So I have returned to my roots and busted out my beloved guru’s books, Writing Down the Bones and Wild Mind.  They have inspired me for many years and continue to remind me of my first love ~ words, writing and the telling of stories.  Utter bliss.  Just write.  So right.

January 2020
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