Three things I tell my self when the chaos is too much.


This past 12 months have brought on alot of changes. Changes which have rocked my world, changed my direction and made me see things differently.
Not all these have been detrimental….but with changes come emotional adjustments. Good and bad. There comes periods of adaptation. Learning to change patterns and habits. There comes an adjustment of our reactions and expectations.
I have been slowly shedding the skin a former self and realizing that being the real me is always the best choice.
When the expectations of social requirements become too much, the chaos is simply over bearing, I have a few concepts that I tell my self before surrendering to the chaotic tidewave of life.

1. Do not rely on one person to be your everything.

I am married. We are committed to one another and share our life. Sometimes it’s hard sharing your life with another. But most of the time it is the most fulfillibg experience to witness the beauty and pain of the world with the one you love.
In those moments of marriage ectasy, it is easy to give into the idea that ‘They are my everything’. It easy to put your expectations of happiness in one person.
But that is not fair.
Over this last year, Through some rough times, CK and I have reconnected our appreciation for one another…as people. I am in love with a man that is funny and imperfect. He is enjoyable to spend time with. He is more then my partner, my co parent, my room mate, my lover…He is my best friend.
But his not everything.
He takes up most of the aura of my soul with his beautiful existence but there is room for more. More space to find what fulfills me. What makes me happy. What pushes me to change and grow. 
We are complex entities that require an array of people and ideas to fulfill us. Putting everything in one container shelters us from who we can be. It stifles our growth.

2. Not everyone has to like me.

This one is hard. I struggle with confidence on a good day.  Like most human beings, I believe the opinions of others dictates my worth.
It’s a common missconneption that most of us have bought it too, and it is rubbish.
Not everyone will like me. As I do not appreciate the company of everyone I meet. We are all allowed our opinions. That is a simple truth of our existence.
That truth does not design my truth.

3. The real me is better then a masked version.

I may be loud. Rude at times.
Excitable and intense. I may be reserved and moody. I may like to vent and tell stories. I am sometimes oblivious and ditzy. I am weird and insightful and I love with all of my heart. I am open to bringing my walls down and respectful to my world.
I am me. And watered down version of that is boring and  tasteless. The real me is sour and bold with an aftertaste of sweetness. I deserve to show that real side. The world deserves to have the real me in it.

It is OK if I don’t fit in everywhere. I may see exactly where I fit yet,  But my puzzle piece has a perfect spot. I just have to be patient and find it.

I do not have to surrender to ideals of social expectations. And neither do you. Your story is worth sharing. And we are worth it all.


When am I officially failing adulthood?

I feel like sometimes I am drowning in a sea of preconceptions. Of what my life should be like. Of where I should be going. Sometimes I feel I am sinking into failed choices. Failed goals. Dreams left unrequited.
I feel overwhelmed by my inability to keep up. My failings at not enough….

  • To write enough.
  • Read enough.
  • Bake enough.
  • Smile enough.
  • Run enough.
  • Self disciplined enough
  • Be smart enough.

Or my failing at being too much.

  • Too emotional
  • Too soft
  • too loud
  • too rude
  • curse too much
  • weight too much
  • indulge too much


when does if feel right to simply be enough.

When is being me enough?  It feels near impossible when every moment has a part of it that makes me feel like I am failing adulthood.

A test I forgot to study for. A curriculum that I was not prepared for.

Who signed me up for this?
Who thought this was a good idea?

A forced next step in the direction they tell me to go. That is what this feel like. Forceful organization of the masses to follow all the rules and be a certain way.

But when will they stop grading me? When will we stop comparing our marks?

And just get on with the story of being enough.


Birthday Lessons: reminders of beauty

“Happy birthday Mommy. I made you something. And wrapped it in barbie clothes. I will need the clothes back, Mommy”

As I attempt to unwrap the gift, her excitement overflows. I barley loosed the skirt the the wraps this masterpiece and she simply cannot control her self anymore.

“Its a rattle filled with crystals. I made it for you. And a crown. You can wear it, will you wear it while you write?”

I answer with a smile. Of course I will, my sweet baby girl.

Another set of feet travel towards my office. Banging hard on the floor. She is on a mission. The princess, she has a gift too. She couldn’t even bring her self to wrap it. She runs at us. Pure Glee has over her face.

“Mommy, I made you something too!!” She says in a voice that is definitely not meant for inside.

“Its a cat, on a leash and I colored it purple and orange. Like the sky, since it is your favorite. Do you like it?”

I love it. I love every bit of it.


This moment, Simple. But beautiful in its purity. How did it get so good?

This Life. My life.


I love every bit of it. The purple of the sky. The glee in her eyes.


The smile in his voice.



The tears of joy. The tinkling of the beads on the hardwood floor dropping from their homemade bracelets, while they craft in the early sun light.



The sound of his little voice serenading me with Mumford and sons. He will wait for me, he tells me.



This is what I was given. This beauty. Everyday it surrounds me.  what I have be blessed with. Everyday is a miracle, in my world, If I am willing to see it.


So, I will open my eyes.

I will decide to see it. Instead of seeing what is missing. Instead of thinking about what I want more of, what would make this better.  More time, more money, more life.  Instead of seeing the more, I will see the now. The beauty of what I have. The moments I get.

I will see what is right in front of me. I am thirty today, and ready to say “My life is beautiful and my eyes are fully open”


Much love,


Trust in today’s light 

I am trusting in today. 

Just today. Because that’s what I was given right now. Today. 

It is a general cliche, ‘one day at a time’. But really one day is all you need. Right now. 

It’s all I need right now. 

One day to praise. One days to love. One day to do it right. 

I don’t have the power or have not even given the supplies for the whole journey. My sound cannot carry the weight.  I have the gear for today. Exacly what I need. Exactly what I can carry. 


That’s what I have. And I will light it up. 


Figuring it all out. 

Anyone else feeling a little lost in the hustle lately? It’s like the timeline is already set and I am simply traveling the train along the tracks.  Losing the sense of adventure and spontaneous clarity. 

I have been so concerned   where my life is going, my fear of who I am suppose to be, what I need to do to achieve it and where I need to go, is complicate and overwhelming. The who, what, where, when and why. The factors of a great story, potentials to create beautiful dialogue and narrative.  But right now mine feel scattered and displaced.

I am not sure what is worse, the fear of not knowing where everything is suppose to be going or the constant need to figure it all out. 

Figuring it all out. 

Nobody knows where it is all going during the down times. If we could do that the process would be lost, no?  The whole concept is to ride the wave. Fulfill the journey of where figuring it all out takes us. Hind sight allows us to crave that need to ‘just know now!’ but life pushes that away.  We are not allowed to just reach the finish line with out the race because the adventure is who we are.  Who we are meant to be is hidden in the shitty, swampy days. Trudging through the deep waters of our souls journey creates the people we are growing into. And we are always growing into ourselves. It is like our body is two sizes to small for our soul, and we are always trying to fit into its beauty.  

Make the race exciting. Be spontaneous. Smile and laugh. The race through the mud is the makings of who you will become. 

Much love, 



…You need our poetry.

I read something on ‘Momastery‘  yesterday that I truly felt deep. Deep into my soul, a connection that made perfect sense.

Because yes, I’ve got these conditions—anxiety, depression, addiction—and they almost killed me. But they are also my superpowers. I’m the canary in the mine and you need my sensitivity because I can smell toxins in the air that you can’t smell, see trouble you don’t see and sense danger you don’t feel. My sensitivity could save us all. And so instead of letting me fall silent and die — why don’t we work together to clear some of this poison from the air?

The world is a rough place. A rat race. A hamster wheel. It can feel like a never ending battle to get to the next day, and I reject that. Right now, I simply reject that.

I don’t want to live in a world where my prayers are for each day to end. Just to get to the next, to do what? I don’t want to live a life where I put up walls and and wear emotionally protective armor, just to get by.

I want to use my sensitivity to better what is around me. The life that surrounds me and bleeds into you. I want to change what is around us. I want my children to see what true living is. What passion is. What empathy is. I want to show true love, a nonjudgmental love. I want to practice these qualities. Not speak of them with words of flowery praise, giving then poetic justice. I want to feel them, deep within. Sinking to the bellows of my spirit and taking root.

I am ready to let those feelings out, because I cannot behind a mask.

A mask made up of expectations and perceptions.

Mental illness has been a struggle for me for a long time. Depression and  anxiety. A struggle that for far to long I was ashamed of, so instead of owning who I am, who I was,  I busied  myself. I presented a version of me that I thought was what the world needed, what I though I needed.

I was wrong.

That version was naked, cold and lost. She did not belong.

The truth was always there, hidden behind fear. My world, the world needs me. As your world needs you.

My mask is off, my perceptions and expectations are on strike and I am ready to feel radiant in my truth.

Because we need your science and you need our poetry. Maybe we are here not just to be saved by you—but to save you back.

And in honor of the that quote from the amazing Glennon Doyle, I am sharing with you the poetry that I have been working on in my poetry course: Soul Holdings, A windy aftermath, Hunger, Escape, High, Pieces

Soul Holdings:

Honesty is the strong birch that digs deep with its roots and holds tall in its branches.

When you breath out your words,

your truth,

ideas of fresh insight fill the space, and make hearts soar.


Knowing with each thought your soul

is growing.


into it’s space.

It’s inhabitance.

 Where your truth lies,

the purest version of you resides.

 like the smile on your lips

or the giggle in your voice.


Your honesty shapes the energy.

Brings light to the dark.

 That truth is every part of you.

All that your soul holds.

A windy aftermath:

 Anger, a frothy bubble.

Exploding outwards from the top layer.

A volcano of emotion, destroying all around.


the boiling that scares deep.

Something fierce.

 The rage that comes,

is nothing short of intense.

 Sweeping the perimeter of all that is soft.

Taking away the breath of the space.

 With all its glory,

it passes quickly.

 Leaving all the wreckage.

 With its pass,

it brings a breath of fresh air.

 A bustering breeze.



 My desire for you is a burning incense.

Soft and sweet from a far, hot to touch.

A burn to the flesh.

 A hunger so deep,

it seems intangible,

unsatisfied and beyond reach.

 A need for your presence,

your true and honest existence.

 Your created beauty connecting with mine.

 I need you deeper,

than ever before.

 To fill me like no other.

longing to feel,

knowing that it will come.

 The moment arising,

to over fill my cup,

pouring out over the sides.

 To fill me up.


The narrow path feeds into the darkness, drinking it all in. Like the straw that sucks a thick milkshake.

Sucking hard. Slow, debilitating, the movement so slow, manipulating her into a trance.

Stealing her core movement. What she needed to feel. How she needed to move.

Stuck in molasses. Controlled and forced. She cries out.




It only gets worse. More narrow. More congested.

It fills her, weighs her down.

Sinking deeper and deeper.

Into an abyss. One she will never escape.


Chasing the High, flying to the sky,

drifting higher and higher.

High and fast, away from here.

Floating up into the clouds, disappearing.

Losing the fight,

giving up and flying high.

Higher and higher.

Never looking down.

Floating, flying, gliding.


She falls.

Hard and fast.

Crashing down harder the anchor penetrating to the bottom of the deep dark sea.

Falling deep into the turbulent waters below.




Deep into the darkness, she waits.

She waits until she can fly again.

High once more. Again and again.

Before she plummets deeper than ever before.


Bubbling up.


These urges taking the place of everything else.

To destroy, a destructive force to rage on. Raging on without restraint.

The yelling piercing through the heart like daggers. Digging deep and twisting hard. The cursing pouring alcohol into the wound. Stinging and burning with unbelievable pain. Shearing forces tearing it apart.

To pieces, till there is nothing left.

Lost in inferno, the soul remains burn. Cackling, spitting. The fire grows, burning on.

The inner battle adding gasoline to the flames. Each thought fuels it on, each concept of guilt or regret grows the flames to new heights.

A rager.

Full out and firey.

Much love,


self portrait

breaking down the tapestry of my soul with pain…,

Yesterday I was reading my favorite blog, Momestry by Glennon Doyle Melton. She had just written an article called ‘Pain is not a mistake’.

I read it and re read it. I shared it and bookmarked it. I made it part of my sub conscious, because it spoke truth and sunk deep.

For a long while, I have been dulling my pain. I have made it my full-time job.

Like she says in her writing;

“When you start to feel: do you numb with booze or food or shopping? Do you scroll, scroll, scroll to escape every time you’re left alone with your self? Or do you deflect discomfort with unkindness? All unkindness is pain deflection. Folks who think pain is a hot potato toss it to the next person so they don’t get burned. That’s all. People who are unkind just believe they can’t handle the pain that comes their way”

I do not numb with booze or drugs. But I numb, in all the ways I can. With food, keeping busy so my mind has nowhere to go, I go on online, I treat my loved ones with unkindness, I go shopping, I try to control everything. I hold so tight to my life so that my mind can no explore the pain that is bubbling. The pain that scares me. Because if I feel the pain, I lose all control. If I feel the pain, I become vulnerable. If I am vulnerable, I am scared.

My dear friends, I am vulnerable right now and very scared. So please, bear with me.

Our souls are like a beautiful tapestry of fabric. They spun uniquely to our own selves. Beautiful colors, stories and designs weaved into one another, creating the unique story of you. The fabric of our soul holds up the inner most beauty of our spirit. But pain breaks it down. Pain slowly tears at that fabric.

For years I have thought that pain I have been pushing away will ruin my soul. Destroy the beauty of the fabric. But last night as I lay in bed at 7 pm because my body could not hold me up anymore (The exhaustion from trying to mask the pain was too much for it.)  While I lay there, I had a thought. Maybe the tapestry was designed to be torn at. Maybe it is the shreds of beautiful fabric that is what is meant to be left. The tapestry on its own is beautiful, but even more stunning is the handy work of a patchwork quilt.

I have been seeing this all wrong. I have been afraid to feel pain, afraid of how it will destroy me. But instead, I am meant to feel it. We all are. Addictions, distractions and control have pushed me so far from vulnerability and truth.

It is hard to let go of past patterns, and I wish I could say Ihave let go and am better but I am still so afraid. Though, I know that change is coming and I am ready to let it go and become vulnerable.

I will let the pain destroy the fabric, cutting it into pieces. And to heal, I will learn to quilt. Creating beautiful art with what is left of me.

We want to KNOW what to do, we want to KNOW who we are, we want to KNOW our path so we can be less afraid and the only way to KNOW is to stop grabbing and running and striving and trying so hard to KNOW and just:

Be Still.


Let it be. Let pain do its work. You do yours. Be Still.

-Glennon Doyle Melton

Much love,