Things Are Good

Things ARE good! True, I can't sleep tonight. But things are good. I remember thinking they never would be again. There are no more chemicals in my body to mess up my mind and emotions. It's finally possible to live - just live. How strange and amazing. I remember thinking "how do they do it?" in the times (decades) when nothing seemed sustainable. Because it wasn't. No relationship had staying power, no job would be kept longer than the time it took to find somewhere to take off to. I don't run anymore, and it's scary. But also secure. There's no way in hell I will ever apologize for this, for this feeling of being here now. It's hard, daily work. But nothing ... Nothing ... NOTHING was harder than living an almost-there-but-never-will-be life.

I have a career I like.

I don't have a boyfriend, because the right one has not come along.

I have an honest way of living.

How cool is all of that?!?!

So much to discover, on any given day.

I wish I could adequately convey how wonderful it felt to sing tonight at the Kabbalat Shabbat service at Temple. The long and short of it is that as a kid I felt that Temple was quite beautiful, but inaccessible. I was adopted. My adoptive mother never converted, although she attended Temple. Was I 'really' a Jew? The other kids seemed more Jew-y ... Jewier, if you will. They were getting bar and bat mitzvah'ed. I wasn't. I had an inferiority complex miles into the wilderness.

Then I got into creativity and drugs and wild behavior, and couldn't imagine myself as a child of G-d.

You know?

And now I am going around again at Temple and kind of like ... wow... I like this. I want to know more. I want to feel that spiritual connection and sense of history. I want a roadmap of sorts to guide me. But I'm not sure about everything. And I'm reallly into Buddhism, always have been. There is no Buddhist temple here or that's where I would be. Every religion and practice is a means to a similar end, that's how I see it. But Judaism, because I was raised with it, feels holy. And like a path that I know how to walk.

And now's the time to mention: I love singing. It's probably too late in life to be useful about it, or good, but who's to say? It brings me closer to all that is pure and good, and that feeling is irreplaceable.

Don't Listen to a word I say ... Hey!

So this song "Little Talks" by Of Monsters and Men ... pop music should always be this way as far as I am concerned. It feels like a bunch of friends sat around on the floor and made this one up one night - I love it!

We put my kitty to sleep yesterday, and tonight I sang in the choir. Can't think of a better progression of events, or better way to phrase things rights now. First one sad thing happened, and life went on and something new happened. Like singing in the choir. Wow. There's such an empty little hole though, where the kitty always was. I'm guessing love really does hold a place in your heart. She was a really great cat.

I've lately been given to very simple ways of speaking and thinking. It's a far cry from the way-overthought-thoughts of the past. I mean ... I used to want to be perfect. Now I don't mind being messy. A little messy. Maybe a lot messy, before it balances out. I've always been introspective and a little bit wild. That only takes you so far, and what I'm hoping is it leads down paths of channeled greatness. Channels like writing ... and song. And love for myself and other people, places and things. See? Times haven't changed that much. I was a really, sentimental, sweet, loving drunk as well. It's true! Just some times I could not stand.

The little nature post.

It was a proud moment during writing group on Friday when I read aloud my first exercise and everyone commented on how much I write about sensory experiences and the out doors. "I really admire how grounded you get from nature," my friend Lisa said. "You can look out a window where I have to take a Klonopin."

It's true that nature is my healing force. I love it. I love leaves in my hair, and some dirt, and feeling the wind and smelling like sunshine and grass. Even very cold nights with stars ... I love that.
Grass on the railroad tracks. Flowers in parking lots. Trees beside the highway. It's not all perfect and idyllic, but at least you can't escape it. Or it can't escape you. Either way, we're better off with nature all around. I'm not sure the same is always true for Klonopin.

Worldly goods

This blog is as good a place as any to post some really good stuff about a random normal today. Bear with me.

Good things which happened today:
-A nice lady told me about tai chi in the park, then offered to meet some evening and do some together with me until I could finagle it into my work/life schedule.
-I took a cool graffiti shot, posted it on facebook, felt provincial, almost erased it, and at that second a new friend commented on it: 'that's my friend's house'. 'I'm heading there now.' Whoaa....
-My dog was adorable and loving as per usual
-I'm looking forward to tomorrow, when nothing extraordinary is slated to happen (or is it?)

Who knew that regular days were so much fun?

As a double-use post, I am also going to take a moment to recommend one of my favorite podcasts
Ram Dass love serve remember foundation Podcast

I don't know how to tell you who Ram Dass is, if you are new to him. Please look him up if you are so inclined. Or listen to the podcast. It's another way I use to re-ground and focus my head when I'm so far gone I'm practically on the Appalachian Trail with just 3 worldly goods and my dog. (Joking ... kidding ... I would never call that 'far out'.)

Time for bed.

Let's meet in a dream.

Are you here?

Do I know you? Can I follow you?

Starting a blog feels kinda like being the new kid at the lunch table.

How does one find people, fun people, new people, to read??

9-Step Plan for Anxiety

Today my friend Amanda posted a post-panic attack instructional review. If we have to endure these things, some of us, I for one am glad to feel a little less alone than I used to when I thought I was just nutso. Not true. And for any readers who think "can't you just calm down?!" then the answer is "No". You can't. I always say that a panic attack is like someone spiking your coffee, or slipping you acid. You simply start to change and you don't know why. It's terrifying. With that said!: 

Presenting Amanda Mitchell's 100% darling and fool-proof
9-step plan for anxiety attacks. 

(I love her, I don't love them) 

"How to Have an Anxiety Attack:

Step One: Hey, you know what you haven't thought about for a while? Everything. All at once.

Step Two: All the chihuahuas who tremble like this have nicer accessories and handbags than you do.

Step Three: There is nowhere near enough oxygen on the planet for this level of hyperventilating. You should probably start freaking out about that, too. That's science.

Step Four: They do make medication for this, you know...

Step Five: ...Although it works better when you don't throw it up in a parking lot ten minutes after you take it.

Step Six: You didn't have any plans that require concentration for the next eight hours, did you?

Step Seven: Hi. I'm your adrenal gland. I'm tired and you won't leave me alone, so please hold still while I hold this chloroform-soaked rag up to your face.

Step Eight: You didn't have any plans that require consciousness for the next ten hours, did you?

Step Nine: Remember all that stuff that happened yesterday? You should probably spend the next four days being embarrassed and depressed about that."


Amanda is a very, very funny lady. You'd be lucky to know her.