I’ll be Bach

I think things are falling into place…

I have had a headache since Saturday. It’s so hard to wake up in the morning and feel your head pound before you even sit up. I’m trying to deal though.

This morning I felt like Bach. I started this Prelude 

The thing I like about Bach is that there is always a pattern, a puzzle, somewhere in that what seems like stream of consciousness of notes. It’s just a matter of finding it. After 40 minutes I found it in the first two lines. It’s a start, and pretty good I think for me.

Now I move onto sewing curtains for my room, preparing lesson plans for my subs while I’m recovering from foot surgery and maybe canning more jelly. It’s more than I can get done in one day but I’m looking at it as choices. Not an overwhelming list that I’ll never get done.

Intention seems to be the word of the last few weeks. What is your intention in this moment? Yeah, it might be finish reading this, click, what’s the next think that pops up on my screen? But deeper-is it positivity? Is it productivity? Generosity? Kindness? 

My intention is self love. Which means doing things that help me and my family work better. If I look at it that way it has a positive affect on me. I’ll take that over the nagging feeling of “all the shit and stuff I always have to do” I don’t want to sit on that cactus.

Speaking of cacti, here is my new friend. He keeps watch out the window, waves goodbye and hello to me. He needs a name. Suggestions?

the mess

I do think I quite understand the term “hot mess” now.

it is quite a hot mess.  my life, that is.

I will have foot surgery in November.  As a dancer, dance teacher, mother, caregiver…this terrifies me.

My husband is in and out of the house, sometimes in his apartment -the apartment as he would rather it be called…sometimes here.

I will write more in a few days time.

I am well.

I will do good work.

I will try to keep in touch.


When I last left you I was running off to find answers.  A “life reading” and $85 from Psychic Suzie *name changed* gave me some relief actually…

Whether or not she truly saw my story, knew my future, knew my past…I’m not sure I really care.  The fact is – I feel like I have direction, desire, impetus.  And that’s really what’s important after all.

I am uploading a video of me dancing.  There are some other girls in there, I’m the old fogie in the back trying to keep up.  I had the opportunity to take a Master Class in Lyrical dance – which, if you remember, is not my style of training.  I got out there though, was older than the teacher, I think, and managed to feel good about it.

Please respect privacy.  Do not share this video or copy the choreography.  We work very hard to create these things.  Also keep in mind, We had about 30 minutes to learn this.


I was told I need to heal myself before I can fix broken things.  Yeah, that’s pretty generic advice but true.  I’ve always focused my energy (at least my adult life energy) on fixing, helping, giving, taking care of….I’m used up.  Taking this class was one of those things to give back to me.

Find myself, redefine myself….that’s always been on my list.  It needs to happen.

Psychic Suzie reminded me that I am strong.  I bore two children, came out of abusive relationships, deal with depression, survived.  I’ve been strong for so long…It’s okay to take this break.  Take some time and give to myself the way I give to others.

I am currently listing to a CD of Segovia and Williams. They are classical guitar virtuosi.  They are playing Bach.  It soothes my soul.  The fact that I found it at the Library used book store for $.25 doesn’t hurt either.

So now I begin this journey.  Help me remember to stay on track.

I’ve already said yes to a 15 hour overnight shift taking care of a woman with dementia this weekend but I think I can do it…and view it as pride in myself.  It will be draining and I’d much rather just sleep but I have to learn the new steps to this new dance I’m doing that is called Me.  I can’t learn them in 30 minutes.​

watching the wheels

I’ve started this particular blog post so many times, and then stopped. There is an image that comes to my mind that fits how I’m feeling so perfectly I must write it down.  Why does it disappear when I get to the computer? Why do I not have the sense to write it down?

Maybe it’s the nature of the feeling…I’ll try to explain it with words and images that don’t quite match so bear with me.  It’s almost apathy.  Like treading water, but not using any energy.  Maybe like a Sims game (I’ve never played) where the world and other characters go on around you and the controls to your player aren’t being touched.  I’m stuck? not quite, still, maybe, with no opinion, no motivation and the river of life keeps flowing on by me, around me.  I’m not getting swept away, or sucked down under, I just – am there.

Though today I find myself searching.  I really really hate this feeling.  It’s a need for something that I can’t identify, and I desperately want someone to find it for me.  I was in therapy this morning, but it wasn’t there.  I went to a store – it wasn’t there either.  I went to the library…no luck.  Stopped at a friend’s house…nope.  I know what the problem is.  It’s somewhere inside of me.  I know that is painfully obvious to everyone.  Even me, actually, but I hate it so much that I refuse.

By the time I used up all the places I could think of to go I started driving home and felt an urgency.  My emotions are building up, the pressure in my chest.  My chin is quivering against it’s push.  At any moment I feel I could burst, a small crack in the dam giving way to the tons of pressure.  I don’t know what’s behind there though.  And that is scary.

Talk about a cliff hanger.  I have to stop for now.

I’ll keep in touch.



I try not to get distracted while riding my motorcycle. This morning though, I’m afraid I did. The early morning south eastern sun was casting a shadow of me on my bike as I cruised down the highway due north. I could see myself, my braid down my back gently lifting and twirling in the wind. Just me, two wheels and a secure feeling of freedom. I wish I could have taken a picture to share this moment with you but for now it is burned in my memory. The look, the feeling…it was glorious.

After a horrible day yesterday this was redemption and realization that pages can be turned and good is still there.

List: Things my husband is now doing

It’s not quite been one week since I made it clear that we needed to separate.  It feels like…to not exaggerate….a month.  Since then there’s been a lot of changes.  One, surprising maybe? not so surprising? thing is that husband is now doing so many of the things I always wanted.

I realize this is not a magical transformation.

I realize this is not going to last.

For whatever reason, though, I feel compelled to make a list.  Maybe see how long it lasts? maybe see what it is that he does that makes me think he’s a good guy? Maybe even so I can justify when things get crappy that it never was going to be good….

For whatever reason, here’s the list:

  • Actively engages in conversations about music
  • Sits down at the piano and asks me to teach him something
  • Talks to me about my family with out bringing up crap from years ago that he’s still pissed about
  • Offers to help me with the kids if I get a new job and my hours change (instead of talking about how stressful my getting a new job would be for everyone and not really worth it)
  • Went to the fucking grocery store and bought food all by himself
  • Bought donuts he thought I’d like
  • Stood up for me when his mom went too far on the bashing me
  • Telling me I look great
  • Thanked me for always sending out cards, remembering things
  • Did the laundry
  • Asked about my chronic pain
  • Talked about my spirituality in a supportive way
  • Complimented a big purchase I made, saying it was a good choice instead of getting all bent out of shape about money

That’s what I’ve got for now.  I’ll update if needed.  So far the timeline is for him to sign a lease October 1st and slowly move out over that month.


hopeful spark

Love begins as a spark

Eager kindling burning fast

We seek  from each other and eagerly give to build the heat, the tower, the flames

How wonderful-glorious-just to let those flames sparkle our eyes and set our cheeks glowing.

The rain comes, yes, but our fire is hot, our base of embers strong.

We find more wood, more fuel, we work side by side -how glorious-to weather these storms together.

So much rain, though, and cold. Too much perhaps? Working now our full time job, more about gathering sticks then keeping the flames lit.

Heads down from the storms we forget to look at each other. Cold and resentment grows.

Anger flings soggy branches on our flames and soon the smoke mixes with rain mixes with tears. Layer after layer. Why won’t you burn?!

Our fire is gone.

“If you would have just!” We hurl at each other. “It wouldn’t be such a mess”. 

Frantic, indignant we try to make it right but there is too much now. The flames are no more, nothing left to fan.

Heavy, soaked and stacked high is the wood. Layers of attempts that refused to ignite. 

I am tired and sore, I can no longer try to build this fire with you.  Especially with blame and guilt surrounding me.

Alone we sit. Cold. Distant.

We stare at our pit that once burned bright. Oh we see those things we did wrong, but how-how impossible it seems to make it all right.

When I am alone, in the darkness, lonely in the endless night I can see an ember buried deep -so faint-but there. 

Could it possibly resurrect to this pillar of love that once was? How I long to feel it again. 

I call out, search, embrace the eternal glow, small though it may be in such despair it seems bright and warm.


Share it with me-at least this moment, let us bask in its tightly packed heat and remember the times we didn’t worry about rain or cold.

The sun will come out. The rain will continue to fall, that ember will disappear from view. 

I don’t know, my dear. If in time it will grow, and overtake the years of pain. 

For now, though, I need rest. Take some of the weight off my heart, give me chance to breathe and be. 

Perhaps then, I can, and you can too, slowly start again fresh kindling in hand, and build our fire anew.


This morning I laid in bed listening to my husband sob.

Hard, Difficult, Stressful….not the right words.  I hate it.

I made the separation official.  We are talking about how to split up finances, who lives where, visitation.  It’s happening.

It’s strange, really.  I don’t quite understand.  I get a build up of emotions – This relationship is not working.  What I need from him just isn’t fair of me to ask of him.  We can’t fix this when we are constantly around each other – annoyed with each other. It must be done – a separation.  I say it out loud.  I make it clear, and then…the tidal wave, the push to be free is gone.  I’m left confused, anxious, second guessing.  I can’t turn back though.  Not this time.  So now, I have to deal with these feelings.

Is that normal?

I think about things like shoveling the driveway this winter…getting the lawn mower started…fixing the vacuum cleaner that’s broken again…it overwhelms me – and then I catch a whiff of his Barbasol shaving cream and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to smell that again without feeling lonely.  One of these days I might just have to buy a can, slather myself up in it and curl up in a ball and sob.  I do miss him.  I miss the him I thought he was when I met him.  I don’t know if he’s that person still or not.  It’s been so long since we’ve been able to see each other beyond the veil of stress and hurt that’s developed over so many years.

His grieving is out loud – and loud.  I can’t do that, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there.  I’ve been grieving for years of the loss of what I dreamed for so I guess it’s a little easier – maybe? I just can’t let the kids see this.  They need to know this is a good move, not something that’s driving their parents into despair.

I’m trying to take things one step at a time.  I’m trying to not fall into the rabbit hole of all of allthethingsI’mgoingtohavetofigureout…it’s prevented this from happening in the past.  Today I got my own credit card.  The first step in building up my own credit.  The bank said I would never be allowed to get a mortgage with my current income.  I’m not terribly surprised. I’ve depended on him for so many things – at least paper things.  Emotional things not so much.  That’s where I’ve grown.  I can be glad of that, I guess.

I’m afraid, dear reader, this is a terribly unorganized and scattered post.  I have no real point, no direction, no ah ha.  I’m in a limbo of worlds right now and I guess it is showing up here too.

Image result for between two worlds



the weed

Never thought I’d be begging my husband to leave me. 

You say it’s doesn’t work I say it’s not working let’s just call it. Be done.

But here I am, killing it…Literally.

I’m not allowed to say the words “for a really long time” anymore. Apparently I’ve been saying it for …wait for it….A really long time.

But seriously that has to tell you something. The thing I’ve been saying “for a really long time” is that I’m getting broken. My soul is the China plate that has been cracked and glued together so many times that there’s no China left and nothing to glue. 

I have qualifiers for my “really long time”, I remember sitting and my therapist office before he moved to a new building, when we first moved out here to TMON, and saying those words. We were still young in our relationship and when he was going through a hard time I was still saying “for better and for worse” but then the worst wasn’t going away even when he got over his mental break down and I had to handle everything including our newborn son.

He left for work this morning saying “if you want it to be over we’ll go to the therapist tomorrow morning and we’ll talk about how to make it over.” I don’t know if it’s really going to happen this time. I’ve said it before, I meant it before, I have made plans before to be done and somehow he’s always pulled us back in. It’s not a bad thing to want to try to make it work, but I think that there’s a time when you realize you’ve both tried enough. I don’t know what to do if he feels like he hasn’t tried enough. I’m sorry for him if he feels that way but at the same time – what the hell has he been doing all this time?

 Or does he just have more fight in him than I do? 

I don’t know these things, I don’t know the answers, I don’t know what’s right. I only know how I feel right now, and that’s pretty shitty.

I went to a wedding this weekend, and the flowers that the bride was holding where wildflowers-she is a wild, crazy beautiful person and her new husband sees her for all of it. I want that too. I want to be seen, as I am, imperfect stem, leaves not symmetric, and have someone affirm what I believe to be true of me. “wow. You are just right. You are enough”

Is it too much to expect from life?

sad short story

Owls were hooting outside my window just a bit ago. One nearby, another a little far off. I think it was the first time I’d heard them out here in a while. 

Years ago my husband and I would lay in bed and laugh at their cadences, sounds and stutters.

I left my room because a fight brew between us. It spilled back into my room and then erupted anticlimactically and unresolved. A hand hit the floor. “I need a break”. 

doors slammed and insults uttered as I was eventually left alone in my quiet room again.

But the owls were quiet.