Posts Tagged ‘poemish’

now joy.

i do have a to do list
completely incomplete.
but is isn’t hanging over my head.
it isn’t whispering in my ear about how terrible i am.
instead i keep catching myself
at peace.
what is the recipe for this joy?
i can’t say
i know.
i can’t say
i don’t know.
it has to do with just being me.
and just being us.
with knitting.
with singing.
with exercise.
it has to do with staying up at night planning circle time.
practicing singing a song about jack frost.
a few quick notes in my journal.
more knitting.
putting on snow pants.
chocolate chip oatmeal coconut cookies.
saying yes to things.
making the beds.
doing the darks.
reminding myself there is no deadline.
there is no real need for hurry.
the world will not end if it takes me another ten minutes to get us out the door.
with forgiving myself more quickly when i lose my cool.
slowly, slowly, at my speed, thinking of myself as a healer.
a woman who heals.
slowly, slowly, at my speed, chipping away at larger projects.
creating places and spaces.
more cookies.

all feelings are fleeting.
life is in constant movement – shifting and reforming all around us and within us.
times for struggle, for growth, for learning, for stretching.
and then occasionally.
just joy.

i won’t wonder when it will end.
i will just love love love the ride.

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gates to be unlocked

this year

he can unlock he gates.

i push the wheelbarrow

with my pitchfork, his pitchfork, and her pitchfork -

i say,

“can you be in charge of the gate please?”

and of course he can.

he slips the latch.

he is purposeful and confident in it.

sometimes i think back on how scary love used to be.

before i had him.

when it was something that could be given or taken away.


but from the moment i knew he was in my belly

those gates were unlocked

and i experienced this new kind of love.

love unlocked.

recently he has started

to ask me for my hand


then he unfurls my fingers

and turns my palm up towards the sky

and leans over and kisses it.

then he smiles at me.

at me unlocked.


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happy holidays


in the whirling dervish of the holidays,

in the constant changing from this plane to that plane,

amidst vomit and late nights,

from this home to that home to another home,

to a bed in the closet or a couch to sleep on.

amidst the hurt feelings of not enough attention or too much attention,

all the tension just masses up in me,

willing me to feel distress,

tempting me to fall into a huge audible sigh.

the sigh of all sighs.

i want to tantrum just like the pea does.





i seek the joy.

i remember the long days alone at home with the kids.

wishing for company.

wishing for bustle.

wishing for someone to disturb the routine of daily life.

here, in the holidays, the wish in answered.

in all its glorious mess.

in the mismatch of family.

the imperfection of cohabitating.

the constant stimulation overload.

this is it.

i dedicate myself to happiness.

i chose happy holidays.

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black and white isn’t true

i am the darkness and the light.

the twisted scraggly parts and the sunshine outside.

i am hurting and healing.

i am parts and a whole.

i have holes and scars and beauty marks.

i talk and listen.

i create and i clean up messes and i watch quietly.

i cry and i laugh.

i love junk food and i eat mostly local and organic.

i write and i avoid writing.

i am all kinds of beautiful messy life.

and my head is a part of my body.

it truly is.

my head is a part of my body.

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head clear tea*

shattered and scattered.
trying to keep singing for vibrational joy.
trying to sink quietly into locating myself.
all the pieces.
that make me.
that are me.

breathing to stay in the moment.
trying to keep singing for vibrational joy.
moving my body a little bit at a time.
keeping the daily tasks going.
making little bits of order.

all on the surface working working.
“the connection you deeply know.”
the connection i deeply know to me?
to the universe?
to the loving universe?
to spirit guides?

right now the shell is up.
and thickly up.
i want to tell the hurting pieces that i love them.
i want to thank them for showing up.
i want to bring healing.
but i am very busy protecting them.
clenched tightly around them.
letting them seek darkness.
not fighting against the familiar retreat.

ok, so make peace with the shell.
thank you shell for the work you do.
and thank you pieces in hiding.
and thanks to the whole team,
i know we are doing our best.
i will keep singing for vibrational joy.
and bring the singing in deep, to reach you, to love you and heal you.
a little vine of connection.
of positive connection.
vibrational joy.

life song.

shattered and scattered and shining.
and singing.


now be.

* tea recipe:
1 part lemongrass
1 part lemonbalm
1 part chamomile
1 part peppermint

steep for 10 – 60 minutes. sip. enjoy.

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i am working on i

where the dot is me

curled up fetal and tight

and the line is me

standing tall and proud

: :

i am working on i

where i look at myself

with clear eyes

and a kind heart

and i see the parts that have worked so hard

and i say, “thank you.”

and also, “you can rest now.”

or, “it is ok, i love you.”

: :

i am thinking about capacity

the capacity to love

how we learn to love

how old wounds, deep wounds, unhealed wounds diminsh our capacity to love.

or to show love.

or to share love.

trust love.

hold onto one another.

: :

i am shifting where i am at

so that i don’t extract things

or feel like i give parts up

i just welcome them into the light

and i assure them that i understand not only their pain

but their strength

and their value

and their ability to feel right again.  right with the world.


: :

i am trying to hold myself

through the shifting

through the transforming

through the trying.

and i feel good.

curled up tight fetal.

and standing proud.

i feel welcome.

: :

i am still trying.

but it is no longer trying.

now it is flowing.



: :

and i don’t feel alone.

i feel quite alright.

i am flawed.

i am loved.

i am a tiny little piece of god.

: :

i am working on i

where the dot is me

curled up fetal and tight

and the line is me

standing tall and proud

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her very first latch

her very first latch




it is changing.

my baby suckling is growing up.

she has a top tooth.

and no, it doesn’t hurt with teeth.

and no, i don’t care that she is almost one we will not be weaning.


as i rock her to sleep though i feel that pinch.

the familiar pinch.

of a top tooth.

just nestling in next to my nipple.

not biting.

not hurting.

no pain.

just present.

hello tooth.

and with that hello i feel the shift.

the feeling of nursing a toddler. 

an older nursling.

the kind that signs, and eventually asks with words.

the kind that nurses standing.

and sitting.

and upside down

and downside up.

while walking and talking or singing or dancing.


none of that happens today.

today i just say hello top tooth.

and i watch her eye lids sink,


and lower, and lower.

and close.

and i feel her sucking slow to a sleeping pattern.

suck suck suck.


suck suck suck


slower and slower.  

softer and softer.


i know she is asleep and i can put her down for her short time asleep alone.

but i hold her longer.

remembering how recently it was that she was born.

that she first latched on.

that i marveled at nursing a little tiny baby.

a little tiny mouth.

a mouth full of gums.

a mouth with no teeth.

i blinked.

blink blink blink.


blink blink blink.


and suddenly we had the tooth pinch.


no, it does not hurt.


hello tooth.

hello growing up girl.

hello second nursling.

snuggled into my breast.

warm, and limp with sleep and filled with my milk and love.


finally i stand up and put her down to sleep a bit.

knowing i will nurse her again in a few hours.

and days.

and weeks.

and months.

and years, if she wants.

why would i not?

hello teeth.

hello growing up nursling.

hello deep unfathomable love.


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stroke of luck

the sun shines.

and a small bee is hovering, 

wings a buzz

but holding perfectly still

in the air 

as we walk past.


hello world,

i am saying.

show me how to live.

show me how to live by instinct.

in tune with nature.

heart beat with the earth.


and underneath me he is moving.


his neck is soft and stretched forward.

his ears are loose and moving.

and our bodies know how to fit.

and our energy knows how to merge.

and he brings me right into the present.


stop thinking,

the land is telling me.

and i see the bee.


stop thinking,

the gnats are telling me.

and his walk.

and the hawk circling above.

and the grass poking out it’s spring growth.

my heart warms a little.

my hips swing in the same rhythm as his.


the skunk cabbage is thriving.

its leaves are broad and green.

i broaden back.

and thank the land.

and breath in deeply the scent.


and then i ask, 

can we run?

and of course we can.

so when i come off the trail down the back,

and into the lower field.

we go.  slow and fast and faster.

he reaches his head forward.

and lengthens his back.

and i balance above him.

and feel the wind on my face.


when he is done he slows to a walk

and i just let him lead.

and then i lean over.

my arms reach down around his neck.

a girls embrace.


i don’t deserve him

but he is mine

and i love him.

he loves me back.

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if i am crying,

it is because i am sad,

and this is all hard.

if i am tired ,

it is because i am up at night thinking.

if i am tense,

it is because i am lost.

if i feel overwhelmed, 

it is because i am trying to do my best,

and that is not easy.

everything is so murky right now.


i just want to be happy.

and i want the whole family happy.

just happy to wake up early, and all jump in bed together, and snuggle, and eat doughnuts, and giggle, and say – aren’t we lucky just to be alive.


is that too much to wish for?

am i truly deeply wrong?

is something wrong with me?

am i to bend more? 



a little peace would be nice.

a clearer vision of how to get there would be nice.

a little nice would be nice.

and grace.


thank you.

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22. a day

it is that day when you want to say you are having a really bad day. but what you should say is that you have to be creative today. truly outrageously creative. and relaxed. and not mind your dirty dirty teeth. or juggling two crying kids. or wiping snot off everything but the source because he won’t let you near him. and you are tired because he doesn’t sleep when he is sick. and you want to moan and cry yourself but you stuff it down. or let it out. i don’t know. i want help. i wish my mom was home.

right now the pea is asleep on me. after her morning nap being interrupted by her hysterical older brother crying and sobbing and carrying on for about an hour. i am not sure if he is so sick he is a mess or just so tired from being up most of the night. or if he is just himself. he wants me all to himself because he is not feeling good and he has to share me which is pretty much the end of his little world. honestly, i wish i could just take care of him too. but as i told him, i am her mama too. and they both need me now.

when she wakes up i want to get dressed. and brush my teeth. and floss. and eat lunch. it is 12:20. maybe i need a second coffee. maybe i should throw them in the car and drive to trader joes listening to her cry the whole way because she hates the car just to feel like i did something. maybe pizza is a good answer for dinner.

may be.
may i be.
may i be.

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