The girl who was once from NYC, transplanted to the sticky trap of the CT countryside. Teacher, singer, writer, hippie chick. Dancer along the path through the dark.
~May words and music and laughter light the way to kindred spirits, kind of heart~
Also a Mommy. That's the most important thing that's happened along the way, but not what this blog will be about.
Give me a life that’s not a series of ‘you hurt me, so I hurt you’. Peace, and love, and honesty. Please.
momentary peaceful I’ll take you anytime
the calm—the less than reeling, something sweetly
filled with children watching movies and the lingering aroma of the dinner we just shared—
and though my heart sits heavy often (always) in some ways
the truth is so much lighter than a hiding and the settling I’m doing in my loneliness is brighter than a life under a thumb—
Funny how sometimes habits can turn on a dime. Things you did for a long time, because your heart is the way that it is, you stop doing, not because your heart has changed, but because it made no difference. And the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and hoping for a different result. Sometimes, it’s not even a result you hope for—though it would be nice to think your presence or absence ever meant anything—it’s about what you should do professionally, and also to feel like you’ve zipped the edges, and accepted what was clear as day—despite the years of denial. I had a therapist who said to me on more than one occasion: “Go with the hope instead of the hurt.” But the fact is, ultimately, you have to go with your gut, and mine has never been wrong. It doesn’t matter what the words are if the actions are completely the opposite, and as another therapist pointed out to me, my biggest issue has always been not being worth much to anyone, beginning in those very formative years of early adolescence. Circumstances beyond my control. and yet I have picked myself up all throughout my life and found a way to survive every cut, every loss, every floundering, and every blow. Sometimes a picture is just a picture, words are just words. And sometimes taking charge of my life by being more quiet, or less visible, is a way to heal from the inside out.
under a blanket of stars
comfort to take from the sky
lie on my back while I count all the breaths we take
wonder of wonders gone by