cicadas

last week, I heard the first songs of the cicadas of this summer

ah, the bittersweet sound of the cicadas' song

it marks the lull and warm days of summer and to me… reminds me that August is immanent, and that the summer is almost over

the lulling chirping sounds drive the fireflies away

in summer's past, I can remember making love to the sounds of the cicadas nearby

this summer, the sounds of the cicadas are bittersweet

I wonder if I've fully taken advantage of this hot sticky season, swam enough, sun bathed enough, enjoyed the outside enough… sadly, I've spent more time hiding from the joys of summer than I have taken it in

consumed by drama and stress, single life, moving, accidents, mistakes, heart break and disappointment… I have forgotten to enjoy fully, be present, and take in the great experience only summer can offer

the chirping lull of the cicadas

memories of juicy peaches, caresses on beaches, salt water covered skin, lazy days in the sun, cold glasses of iced tea laced with honey and mint, his fingers running across my lips, outdoor concerts filled with pot smoke in the air, hiking up that mountain, chillin' on the porch holding hands, bursting blueberries, freshly painted toes wiggling in the sand

the cicadas call, they remind me there's still time to enjoy these things, it's not over, but the clock is ticking on summer

I have much to be grateful for, dancing with friends, trips to Coney Island, kissing him on the beach, front row for Franti & Spearhead, celebrating my birthday and my 90 days on the same day, celebrating my son's birthday, summer solstice BBQ at Mary's, fresh raspberries, new job, opening my heart for a moment to taste a heart connection, holding baby Izzy, my clarity and serenity, midnight swims, forging friendships and finding fellowship with my girls, lots of fireworks, got more ink, finding our new house, playing golf, watching my son swim for the first time, catching up with old friends, pool parties, bbqs, meeting Liz Baily, discovering that I can incorporate Buddhism into my program and jeesh, summer ain't over yet….

cicada's just reminding me…there isn't much time left, so I better take advantage now… just one more month to go..

what I want to do before the summer's end…ride on the back of a fast motorcycle with a fun companion, eat more summer fruit, lay on the beach until I turn dark brown, throw a bbq of my own, bike ride with my son around the reservoir, hit the outdoor skate parks, APW with Radiohead, take Z to Zume Flume, go to Coney Island again, meditate at the monastery, and kick it on my new porch at my new house, finish step four, read another book, make a thing of ice cream, go hiking and have a little more fun...summer sunny...toasty... sexy... FUN...

waiting....

No one could have explained this new life to me before... they just wouldn't have made any sense. I wouldn't have believed that a life of clarity would be this way.

Up until the night of the very end, I never pictured myself clean. I couldn't look forward at a life that didn't include getting high and drinking.

A friend said to me over the weekend, that sobriety is the greatest weirdest trip he's been on...more than all the drugs and drinking we've done...it is sobriety that is the trippiest trip of them all.

You know, he's right.

I understand what he is saying. I am still green, this is still so new. It is some sort of trip, and adventure with freak outs, joy, connectedness, realization, and an understanding that I have a choice.

I'm making different choices, but now... as I morph my way of life into something else, I feel as though I'm in a bit of a holding pattern.

I am now Waiting for the universe to unfold it's plan for me in front of me. This is counter-intuitive of what I understand, of what I know.

Taking suggestions, I pray, I meditate, I pray some more... and wait to see if my quiet speaking brings me the things I ask for. As a spiritual person, I know to pray for things in a white magic way. I ask for the universe to make decisions, and never worry about the material... just the peace and the love to fill the potholes and cracks in my soul and my heart.

If you ask me, was the old way working for me? My answer would have to be no. My life was unmanageable, and I became the thing that got in my way as much as the thing that manifested so many realities.

Taking in life, and it's still my life, but doing it in a place of clarity... I feel like I'm on some sort of trip...except, unlike a drug induced trip...this one keeps going and going and going.

I keep doing 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3.... surrendering, handing my will over... and find myself sitting back and letting my HP drive.

Life keeps coming, throwing the stuff at me, and forcing me to challenge me to be clean another day.

I experience such a range of ups and downs, gains and losses, things to be grateful for... and have to endure all the stuff life just keeps throwing into my time line.

Today, I pray for others. I see that I can give, and love differently. Inside, I have compassion, and recognize that the way things look on first impression are not always as they seem.

My greatest supports right now come from places I never expected.

There are promises, of a peace I've never known before, of a love and magic that will bring me all the things I truly want and deserve.

Yet... I am waiting... I am waiting... I am waiting.... I am waiting....for my life to unfold in front of me....my new life... to open up in front of me....

the cure for the shame

The best way to get over feeling ashamed of doing something completely impulsive and stupid....do something way more stupid and embarrassing....have a good laugh...and realize that the consequences are really no big deal....

Oh, how I adore my inner spaz, she's fan-frickin-tastic baby!

Blahging on... I have to say, the beginning of my week was pretty horrible...if you and I didn't connect, let me catch you up....

I felt immense urge and pain to fall right back down the dark hole. I wanted to go backwards, crack a bowl, and a beer, and take away the pain with what I know works. Well, not really, it's a temporary fix…but in the hours that surrounded my days…I so wanted to just drink again…

But, my will didn't win, my HP protected me and guided me through the darkness...

My clarity wins, this time.

What did it take...well...I did something really dumb, in front of more than a gaggle of strangers at the gas station in the middle of Kingston, with my son in tow....yeah, I was distracted, full of rage, hideously resentful when I pulled in...something's wrong with my coolant thingy in my car...so I buy another giant bottle of the toxic green liquid while filling up my tank. I do that thing, you know, where you stick the gas cap into the pump so the gas keeps pumping while I huff and puff in the store looking for more coolant. I refill the leaking thing under the hood. Mind you, I have no clue what I'm doing, I'm not exactly car savvy.

I'm pissed I don't have child care and I have to go to my stupid mandatory one on one session with that wretched counselor at mandatory rehab. I loathe her, and her stupid comments. I abhor that she has the desicision to give me my drivers license back or not. Oh, I just want to go punk rock on her ass and beat her down in my cherry toed boots.

But, I'm wearing open toed heels, that ain't gonna work.

Distracted, and lost in my head, where dark thoughts are consuming me, I finish refilling the coolant, get the cap twisted back in place, close the hood, get in my car, turn up the music and drive away.

I'm sitting at the edge of the parking lot, when this adorable young boy comes up to me with my gas cap in his hand, "Mam, you forgot to take the pump out before you drove away, here's your gas cap."

Ooooooops!

I turn around and see about 15 car loads of people watching me. They are scowling, as though I did something to them.

I walked back to where I was pumping, put the nozzle back in it's place. Thank the boys about 20 times over. Smile at the man shaking his head at me, and say, "oh well, I guess I lost my mind a little, but you wouldn't know what that feels like…hah hah…because, you know, you've never made a mistake in your life."

Fuck him. Fuck them.

Thank you to the guys who bothered to get me my gas cap back.

Thank you for not trashing my car.

Thank you for insuring that I didn't injure anyone, accept my ego a little.

Thank you for helping me find the laughter in it. For realizing the consequences were pretty miniscule. That in the grand scheme, I'm just a cute spaz, and cute spazzy girls are bound to do some pretty funny spazzy things in front of a gas station full of strangers during rush hour.

What did I do after that?

I laughed out loud at myself...turned up the Modest Mouse track kickin' out of my speakers...and went on to the next thing…

I have to live life no matter what, it's the attitude I've got while dealing that makes all the difference.

chasing the dragon

My heart shut down this weekend, my body went limp.

I had some sort of emotional hangover, which took me over and left me over exhausted and unmotivated.

What happened?

Sensory overload.

I dealt with a mix of emotions, memories and an influx of experiences that left me fried.

But the one I didn't count on was the memory I dealt with today…

Today marks the two-year anniversary of meeting "him". It dawned on me sometime this afternoon, when I realized…it was exactly two years ago this weekend that our worlds collided.

To say that I was a little blown away is an understatement. Could it really be two years now since my life was altered…my heart blown open, and my Addiction to Love born.

My four-month affair came on quick and fast, love at first site, every day a perfect miracle. Oh, I was in love, but with what? I was in love with a concept. I was in love with the idea of being in love. In reality, I'm not sure I really knew this person at all.

For this magical period of time, I felt something I had never experienced before, a high so high…that when he abruptly left me, I suffered from a wicked withdrawal and heartbreak so intense, I never believed I would recover.

It's like Chasing the Dragon, you smoke up the delicious opiate…but do you actually catch anything? You're drawing in the smoke…with the hopes to achieve this immense high…but it's fleeting…it doesn't last. You catch nothing, just a craving for more, and a higher high. And in the end…you never actually catch a dragon, just a painful feeling of coming down and withdrawal.

Ahhh…how quickly it came on…we had the most amazing chemistry right from the start. We were saying "I Love You" in just a few days. The Sex was Perfectly Perfect. Our mind's melded and he gave me everything I wanted, without having to ask…I was just getting the Love High strong, hard and fast. Without using a lick of rational thought, I let him move into my life right away and incorporated him into my world instantly.

The rush, the high, it was so exhilarating. In hindsight I can see it for what it was. A mirage. This affair was not based in reality. In the real reality, I didn't know him at all.

Like the first rush I felt the first time I snorted a line… this brief encounter brought me a rush that made me feel a host of intensely heightened sensations…just like that fabulous feeling one gets from the first time they try a new drug. The first time I tried this brand of Fast Hard Love, it distinctly left an indelible impression and I was hooked.

For a short moment, a few months, I was lost in a magical feeling that I feared to question, because I knew deep down, it couldn't be real.

And…then, it was done. He left. No explanation, no break up. He just disappeared.

No source of replenishment…I had a bad love sickness…a pain so cutting, it destroyed me, the withdrawal so unbearable…I didn't think I could live or breath through another day.

My heart was ripped in half, the pain so excruciating, I'm still not sure if I've ever really healed.

And thus I became… a Love Junkie.

I was left, abandoned, with no answers and when I got them later, they didn't really fix anything or make anything better. All I wanted was to recapture it again, and so I danced, from boy to boy, hoping meaningless sex, dating without emotion, faking a feeling of romantic interest might cure me of my horrific disease.

Deep down I'd question if I'd ever re-find that feeling again. But it never came. It won't… it isn't based in a reality I live in. It was meant for that time of my life only, and won't reappear. I don't think I can handle it again. The rehabilitation process was just so difficult.

I'd pray and pray to feel that way just one more time….lost in the pain of lusting for a high that only existed in this one space and time. I looked backwards and forwards in time and space…but this maniacal adventure was to happen to me only once. Never to be recaptured again.

I've been in love before. I know how it feels. Each time, each person, brings a new twist to the emotion. Each relationship that has marked the timeline of my life, is connected to something else, something toxic. Each man in my life paralleled my habits, whether they were coke, booze, ecstasy, booze….they partied like I did, and thus we were a match.

This person and I shared a kismet bond, we had both left our abusive spouses, and loved weed, sex and driving fast literally and metaphorically…it was fate. We nurtured each other post-marriage in that quintessential rebound way I've read countless articles about. Oh yes, post break up, I finally listened to my friends and family and understood that I was in some sort of rebound haze, and that it couldn't last.

So today, I acknowledge…that I am guilty of lusting for Love. For craving the chaos and drama, for being an obsessive freak, for perpetuating an idea that this could be something I want. It's not good for me.

By wanting to Love in this way again, I recognize that I'm merely Chasing the Dragon, sucking up smoke, not getting as high as I did that first time….and knowing it will never get me that high again. I must face this demon, as I face the other elements of my recovery. It is time for me to step back, and acknowledge that I am a Junkie, and Addict, someone who craves to do things that feel good whether they are good for me or not.

My heart remains a damaged organ. My rational thought realizes it is what it is. I have so much heartbreak to acknowledge and repair…if I'm ever to step into a relationship again, I must see the addiction I have for Love. I am a Love Junkie.

my inner psycho

Today I embrace my inner psycho and hand her over to something greater than me….

Earlier this week, I came to the realization that I must release the will and the insanity, and hand it over. It is time to Surrender.

Surrender, now that is a word that most use when they are losing the battle. It's a war term. Not a term of peace, or is it? If I am to find the peace inside of me, I need to end the war I am having with myself. It is time to take my will out of the picture, and let the universe guide me to where I need to be.

When I take my determination for control out of the equation, good things happen for me. I am a great manifester, when I am calm and in a positive place with myself.

In the past few weeks, my insanity has arisen in many forms. My past pains have crept up to haunt me. Determination has sabotaged the good stuff, and held me back from finding the the path I seek towards an easier way of life. My inner psycho loves the drama, obsession, control and feeds on the scars and painful old wounds deep inside.

For many years, I squashed the loud chaos of my inner psycho, with a lot of weed. Oh, how the stoner me was so laid back, chill, cool and calm. Without the substance, she takes on another form. She is loud, and sad, filled with self-pity and insecurity I never recognized before.

She needs a hug. She hurts deeply and cries loudly.

Letting go of my will is not easy, but if I visualize my inner psycho…I know I don't want her to have control anymore. Who is this inner psycho? She is the sick me, the willful me, the grand saboteur, the one who tells me I still want to get high now. She's the obsessed crazy person I've succumbed to for such a long time. She is a pretty girl, loads of fun, an extremist, an attractive being, but what she attracts….I no longer want.

And so I ask the universe to take away my insanity, and in the process, I hand over my inner psycho. I've handed her over, she is no longer mine to nurture. I know she can't go far, because she is very much a part of me and what got me to this place.

I know she won't go far. She is my disease, my illness. I embrace her, as one would embrace a troubled child. If I can find it in my heart to love her unconditionally, in turn, I love myself, and forgive myself.
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Crazy by Seal -

In a church by the face
He talks about the people going under
Only child know
A man decides after seventy years
That what he goes there for
Is to unlock the door
While those around him criticize and sleep
And through a fractal on that breaking wall
I see you my friend and touch your face again
Miracles will happen as we trip
But we're never gonna survive unless
We get a little crazy
No we're never gonna survive unless
We are a little
Cray cray crazy
Crazy are the people walking through my head
One of thems got a gun to shoot the other one
And yet together they were friends at school
Get it, get it, get it, yeah!
If all were there when we first took the pill
Then maybe then maybe then maybe then maybe
Miracles will happen as we speak
But we're never gonna survive unless
We get a little crazy
No we're never gonna survive unless
We are a little
Crazy
No no we'll never survive unless we get a little bit
A man decides to go along after seventy years
Oh darlin
In a sky full of people only some want to fly
Isn't that crazy
In a world full of people only some want to fly
Isn't that crazy
Crazy
In a heaven of people there's only some want to fly
Ain't that crazy
Oh babe Oh darlin'
In a world full of people there's only some want to fly
Isn't that crazy
Isn't that crazy Isn't that crazy Isn't that crazy
Ohh
But we're never gonna survive unless we get a little crazy crazy
No we're never gonna to survive unless we are a little crazy
But we're never gonna survive unless we get a little crazy crazy
No we're never gonna to survive unless we are a little crazy
No no never survive unless we get a little bit
And then you see things
The size of which you've never known before
They'll break it
Someday
Only child know
Them things
The size
Of which you've never known before
Someday

single mommy moments

to my wonderful readers...who have followed my blogs about my single mommy moments...you can jump right in...

for those of you who are new to this ... here's my little bitty about being a single mommy...

First of all, it is no harder or easier than being a Mommy who's with the Daddy. If you had my crazy hard marriage, you'd see that my house now is a calm and wonderful place to live. I love being Zman's mom, and doing it solo, for the most part, is far easier, than having to do it in a house of fighting and tension. Maybe every relationship is different, and this isn't about my marriage. It is however about my life thereafter...and how much more calm and peaceful my life is now that it's just me and the Z.

But of course, with every situation, there's the good and the bad. Being a single parent, means having to do it alone.

There are some advantages. I get just about all my weekends off from Mommy Duty, and get to make parenting choices without having to also be compromised in a committed relationship that takes tons of work.

There are times in the mix, where I just feel alone and helpless. Times that I struggle and wish there was someone here to get my back. Moments where my son and I are at an impasse, and I feel a sense of helplessness that comes with trying to be a parent without a manual. In those random moments, my heart moans for a partner to help me figure out what the heck I'm doing.

There are "dude" jobs that just don't get done around my house like lawn mowing, car fixing/washing and other stuff that I've deemed meant for someone else to do because I'm a girl. Oh you feminist chicks relax, I know I can do anything a man can do, well, sort of. But, I'm not totally feminist like that. I like having the door opened for me, my coat held out for me and the trash taken out to the curb.

Yeah, I put on my own coat, open my own door and drag that big green can out to the curb every week myself, but man, I miss having a dude around to make me feel a little more like a woman and do those things for me.

But I digress....

Even before we split, I pretty much had to do a lot of the Mommy events with just me and Z. If we got together as a family and went out, there was always the Lester drama, and he's a dramatic frickin' guy.

Over these few years, I've been the one at all the school events, talent shows, PTA meetings, birthday parties, kiddy concerts, etc.... Just a couple of months ago I was at this big school board fundraiser, and I was the ONLY single parent there. It takes some mental preparation showing up at these things in Single Mommy Mode. I have to do some sort of inner chant about how fuckin fabulous I am before entering the doors of any of these school functions. There's always a parent who suggests I hook up with Mrs. LaMonda's hot brother, this single guy they know, that single guy, some cousin, friend, "have you tried match?" etc.... and always I smile, but inside I'm totally embarrassed because what they are really saying is, "YOU ARE SO SINGLE."

I remember looking at the single mommy chicks I knew, and thinking how lucky I was that I had someone…what did I know?

Ugg.

This past weekend, I had one of those mortifying death-defying Single Mommy moments at Coney Island. We were at the Mermaid Parade, and had a terrific time. After eating a ton of junk food, Zman decided he needed to potty. You know, poop potty. Oh....nooooooooo. We were far from anywhere I knew that had a bathroom, we were in some no man's land between the freak show and the beer garden. Suddenly, the little guy is reeling in pain, he's got to go. All that sugar and garbage in his little tummy, I could only imagine. I went into super mommy mode, guiding him by the hand through the throngs of people up to the boardwalk, around the hoards of freaks and in between the oblivious crowds to the public bathroom by the beach. I figured this was our best bet.

The line for the Women's Room wrapped around down the boardwalk. Clearly, this option was OUT. So, I looked over at the Men's Room and decided we'd brave it there. As I got to the door, the security guys gave me the hairy eyeball, indicating I was to stay outside the gates to the salvation my son desperately needed. So, I did the unthinkable, I sent my little guy into this crowded disgusting public bathroom all by himself. I gave him a little pep talk, and sent him in. At that moment, some ghetto piece of shit guy came right up to me and started to give me grief that I shouldn't have sent him in alone. He made me feel like a terrible mommy. Jerk! Why I let him get to me? Because I was there, alone, Single Mommy...inferior and totally baffled how to accommodate my poor little son who really had to get to the potty. I stood there by the entrance, each of my eyeballs intently watching each of the doors. Each moment he was in there was heart wrenching. Why did I let that guy get to me? Will my little man be OK in there all by himself? I began to doubt my choice. My heart was beating faster and faster.

I began to really panic, he was in there a while. All sorts of characters were moving in and out of the doors to the men's room, and each one looked more creepy and suspect than the last one. Butterflies filled my stomach, and I thought, the What Ifs?

At that moment, a friendly face came to me asking me for directions. They were a family visiting Coney Island for the first time from out of town. Then, the woman really looked at me, "Are you ok?"

I explained that my son is inside, that some guy yelled at me for letting him go in alone, that I was worried, I was panicked that some freak was in there watching him, or worse. Well, I just told her I was worried he was in there a while. Her husband came to the rescue offering to go in and get him, just as I had shown him Z's picture on my phone...Z came out, safe and sound.

My confidence in my choice was renewed. I know my kid, and I trust myself enough to know he was fine. Why let some dick head take away my power and my confidence in my parenting choice? It was the only alternative. And of course, my little guy was fine. I've taught him to be a strong independent little man. I'm a great Mom, he knew just what to do.

Relieved he took care of his business. I was ready to get the heck out of there. I threw Z up on my shoulders and carried him down the boardwalk through all the crazy people back to the parking lot. I felt like a great mommy. We had an awesome day.

This morning, Z graduated from Kindergarten. Here it comes, another school function I was to attend just Me. Something inside me has changed. I'm fine with it, I know this is how it is.

I put on a cute get up, Z and I are wearing our brand new Coney Island tee shirts for the day. I got myself together, threw my camera in my bag, and smiled at myself in the mirror. I'm Z's rockin' mommy, and I'm more than enough. He didn't ask for anyone else, he didn't need anyone else there to support him. He had Me there to cheer him on. Who cares if I'm there alone, that's what our life looks like.

For the first time at one of these school things, no one bugged me about meeting their newly divorced cousin, or whatever...instead, they let me be. Maybe because, for once, I let me be ME! and I know that I Am Enough and that I'm a totally Kick Ass Mommy.

summer storm

At this very moment, the most miraculous summer storm is passing over the roof of my house. As it begins to slow down, I am stunned by the sheer power and magic I just witnessed.

When I got home from my very eventful weekend, I barely had the energy to stand. I lit a few candles, climbed into bed and passed out. Apparently I slept through about seven phone calls. I must have been extremely exhausted, because I'm not the heaviest sleeper.

But this crazy summer storm just rolled in, and awoke me with the loudest crashes of thunder I've ever heard!

Upon awakening, I was taken aback by one of the most intense summer storms I've ever witnessed. The sky strobed profusely with an onslaught of lightening overhead. The storm carried with it electrical clouds casting out lightening in every direction. Thunder was blasting directly over my house. If you could see this storm from my porch, you'd be looking through the branches of evergreen trees that must be hundreds of years old.

The sheer power and intensity of the flashing lightening and deafening thunder was miraculous and unbelievable.

I love summer storms. They evoke so many emotions. As they water the grass, the flowers, the trees, and cool the earth…. they also cleanse my soul.

On my drive back upstate today, "What I Be" by Michael Franti & Spearhead came on my iPod. I've owned this for sometime, but not sure I ever really listened to the lyrics as clearly as I did today. What a powerful song, and indicative of how I am feeling this week.

As my quest for clarity moves forward, I've begun to take an inventory of the person I am.

I am a very passionate woman. This is far from a new discovery. I am self-aware that my passion is the driving force for every action I take. Going back to my earliest journals, one can read countless pages about how I rule my life with my passion. There are a host of entries in my teens into my early twenties where I come to the realization that I must live my life by following my gut. That when I think something out too much, I destroy the opportunity. In my life, the "go for it" attitude has dictated just about every decision I've made in love, career and big life choices. Rarely do I think things through before taking action. I get an idea that sticks to the walls of my heart, and that's where I follow.

My passion is a giant. It governs a world where magical things do happen.

It is also overwhelming, and repels some of the things I want most.

In choosing the people I surround myself with, I find that I am drawn solely to those who also rule themselves with a life of passion. In looking around me at the people who make me feel a sense of kinship, they are extremely passionate souls. My heart is always drawn to a person of deep unending passion.

My friends are the most amazingly passionate people, with a capacity to love that exceeds well beyond most others on this planet.

In my downfall over the past few years, I've controlled this fire and light inside me by squashing it with chemicals and toxins. I've denied my heart and my ability to follow my gut by polluting myself. I've attracted so many wrong people, toxic souls, and pushed myself into a lonely corner. When I look back to where I was, I feel such a great sense of relief to discover that my effervescent light still shines. And lately, it's like lighthouse bright, beaconing boats to turn before they hit rocks and Me!

Like the lightening storm that just consumed me, my passion can be intense, overwhelming, massive, electrical and strobe through the others around me in a way that can over take and conquer.

Back to the drive home…so I'm listening to "What I Be" and really absorbing the lyrics. I play it like seven times in a row. I picture myself a tree making the sweetest fruit, and pulling in love and bringing people Ice Cream on a sunny hot day…and thought of what a gift my passion and heart both are. Because, I strive to be a great many of those things. I work hard to be that gift, and I remember back to a time when I felt so much this way… before my life got so complicated, before my problems got so colossal, and before I let myself dive down that dark hole.

So now I need to learn my heart again. If I am to continue feeling every emotion I have, and feel love, pain, joy, anger, frustration, lust, excitement and my passion so strongly, I must work now to find the tools to control these things. I must learn to connect to my heart differently now, because I've disconnected from it for such a long time.

I am an extremely passionate woman. In my quest for balance, love and clarity…I must also learn to be the master of my own passion and not let it become a storm that overtakes everything in its path.

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What I be by Michael Franti & Spearhead.....

If I could be the sun
I'd radiate like Africa and
Smile upon the world
Intergalactic love laughter and
If I were the rains, I'd wash away the whole world's pain and
Bring the gift of cool like ice cream trucks on sunny days and
If I was the earth I'd be like mountains bountiful
And if I were the sky so high, I'd be like wind invincible and
If I could be a seed, I would give birth to redwood trees and
If I were the trees, I'd generate the freshest air to breathe in

What I be, is what I be
What I be, is what I be
well, well, well, movin on!
well, well, well, movin on!
Do you love someone? Do you love somebody?
Love that one!

If I could be the leaves, then like jade I would stay evergreen and
Spread my limbs out wide and pull love so close to me and
If I could the roots, I would dig deep like ancestry and
If were the fruits, you'd make the sweetest cherry pie from me and
If I could be the night, my moon replace all electric lights and
Magic music would transmit from outer space on satellites
If I myself could be the ocean, you would feel emotion all the time and
If I were the words, then everything that everybody said would rhyme

What I be, is what I be
What I be, is what I be
well, well, well, movin on!
well, well, well, movin on!
Do you love someone? Do you love somebody?
Love that one!

If I could be sex my words would protect
I'd be in the lives of all who connect
What the heck, I'd make it so we all got selected
pores would be dripping pure hot intellect and
The minds of the masses would all stay erect and
Then just for kicks, I'd mail out some checks
Addressed to those who sent their used latex in
Yes, that's what I would if I were sex
If I could be you, you could be me
I could be you, you could be me
I could walk a mile in your shoes.....
And you could walk a mile in my bare feet

What I be, is what I be
What I be, is what I be
well, well, well, movin on!
well, well, well, movin on!
Do you love someone? Do you love somebody?
Love that one!

Here's some cool video I found on YouTube that is inspired by the very same lyrics!!!

the Master of Sabotage takes over

I possess many great talents…I am creative and smart. Many call me the manifester. Throughout my life, I've been able to create situations and make great things happen for me.

When life gets tough, and certainly it has, I've always managed to pull myself out by creating new circumstances. There isn't a time in my life where I wasn't pulling in some sort of income. And when things have seemed most bleak or scary, an opportunity seemed to always ride up behind it. My friends often joke that I always manage to pull one extra magic trick out of my ass.

In the times of my life when the lows were at the very bottom, I've come out on top. Every single time.

I am a woman of strength and courage. As an independent person, I have had no issues dealing with life's many challenges on my own.

For the past two years, I've re-found my "Me", the individual who manifests success without being a piece of anything or anyone else.

In these years, I've managed to raise an amazing son on my own with very little assistance. Additionally, I've made a career in marketing in a place where I have no business having a career. Trust me, I am far far from the cosmopolitan NYC where it would be far easier to excel in my field.

Yet, despite my great gift for living my life as a powerful, strong, independent woman and single mom, I'm a huge failure at supporting a personal life of value. This may sound incredibly dismal, but since my split, creating new lasting relationships has been extremely challenging for me.

The people whom I've met over the past two years have come and gone. Friends who seemed so close were merely transient. Granted, I've managed to forge a very small handful of meaningful friendships, which I foresee lasting far beyond decades, but not that many.

There is my disease…my illness, my allergy to love. Every time I come near a heart connection, my body rejects it. I break out in hives, and my insides become full of anxiety. I am the grand master of sabotage whenever a man has come too close to me since my split with Lester. I think I want it to happen. I get so close, and when it begins to manifest, I destroy it with an emotional allergic reaction one could almost call psychotic. Time and time again…someone gets to close to my heart, and I ruin it with fear, expectations that become resentments, and a stirring of past emotions I just can't shake.

In my most recent attempt at opening my soul, I destroyed it as quickly as it came with my ability to dredge up old behaviors and the anxiety that comes with being vulnerable. At first, I believe this is what I want, only to squash it with some sort of outburst of insecurity.

By feeling the beginnings of the possibility of what might be, I dig down deep into my memory banks and find all the moments hidden in my brain, which remind me of what having my heart broken feels like. I opt for breaking my own heart quickly now, rather than dip my toe in the possibility pool.

While I wish for the possibility, my actions take me somewhere else. I remember the last time my heart was ripped in half. I feel it as clearly as the day it first happened. I freeze in my emotions and recollect every single millisecond of the pain it brought me.

And then…..the master of Sabotage takes over. I repeat what I know best, I destroy the very thing I think I want most. My insecurities scramble up against the inner walls of my heart and push away anything and everything in its path.

Alone I can do. I am a powerful independent woman. I am strong if I don't have to love. Love makes me weak, takes my power and eventually cuts me leaving me broken all over again.

My faith in the everlasting has been destroyed. I cannot imagine love without heartbreak. They are synonymous…there is no having one without the other.

Don't get me wrong, I loved being in a committed relationship, I am the serial monogamist. But fear of heartbreak has consumed me. I am no longer patient, I am no longer a believer.

I'd like to embrace my inner romantic. But my memory of the pain wins again.

And so, I've sabotaged another chance, another possibility. There's no turning back. I made sure to document my psychosis in writing and push away yet another thing that got too close to my heart.

There is no blaming anyone but myself.

I say I don't want to be alone, but my actions speak louder than my words.
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Unfinished Symphony by Massive Attack -

I know that I've imagined love before
And how it could be with you
Really hurt me baby, really cut me baby
How can have a day without a night
You're the book that I have opened
And now i've got to know much more

The curiousness of your potential kiss
Has got my mind and body aching
Really hurt me baby, really cut me baby
How can you have a day without a night
You're the book that I have opened
And now I've got to know much more

Like a soul without a mind
In a body without a heart
I'm missing every part
Like a soul without a mind
In a body without a heart
I'm missing every part
Like a soul without a mind
In a body without a heart
I'm missing every part
Like a soul without a mind
In a body without a heart
I'm missing every part
Like a soul without a mind
In a body without a heart
I'm missing every part
Like a soul without a mind
In a body without a heart
I'm missing every part