My friends are moving.

I am not generally a needy person. I tend to seperate  myself from my friends at times. It’s not that I don’t need them, or that I don’t want them in my life. It’s just that I am a bit of a home body and like sticking to my routine. It’s part of who I am. I have enjoyed those times when life is busy and social, but I cling to my solace. 

Now that my friends have been moving on, or moving away, I find myself missing them a whole lot. I do have some people close to me that have not lived close to me for some time, but somehow that works for us. We come together and really enjoy the heck out of our visits. I hope the friends that are moving or have moved away are able to share in those kind of experiences with me still. 

I think I might be a little sad. But at the same time I am super excited about  the adventures they are on, or are about to be on. I feel so blessed to have known such amazing people in my lifetime. I keep memories of our talks and fun times floating around in my head and that makes me happy. 


Eggshells Forever Underfoot (second go)

For me, there comes a time when you don’t want to keep walking lightly anymore.

I make mistakes, many of them. I can be insensitive. What I say and do drastically effects others and I need to be mindful of how I behave. Intention means nothing to some.

I fail to see how my apology isn’t worth much, or how someone else can know me so well, that they know my heart and don’t consider it? I think they don’t really know me. I am so tired of watching my steps. 

I forget myself, is that right? Or is it that I am who I am, just like any other person. I make mistakes, I need love and understanding. At least half as much as I give? 

I don’t lash out when I have been wronged, or point out others flaws that make it seem like they are wrong, or different. 

One little crack, I hear it too late. Now I am left scraping myself off the floor, trying to remember that I am worthy, I am kind and giving. I make mistakes, it’s a part of living and growing. I remind myself that one person’s opinion doesn’t equate who I am, nor what everyone else thinks.

I make mistakes.

(One such mistake is trying to post this while being outside of wifi range, it deletes the whole thing. Rewriting a heartfelt thing with the same tone, no fun.)

Eggshells forever underfoot

For me, there comes a time when you just have to accept what is and try to live with it.

I know that in most situations I will make mistakes. I understand that making mistakes does not make me a bad person, and the opinions of one person do not equate the opinions of everyone. Nor do those opinions have any true standing in explaining who I am. 

Sometimes I forget myself, is that right? Or is it that I forget how to behave around others who are effected so drastically by my behavior? Could it be that I am so insensitive? Maybe. 

I know that what I say and do has a huge impact on others, I just wish it wasn’t so. I want to make mistakes and blunders and be able to say I am sorry and have that be believed. Intention means nothing to some. 

I am tired of paying attention, of trying to behave so that I do not offend others all the time. And do those people have to watch what they say to me? It doesn’t feel like it. Only I don’t point it out, I don’t get angry, or condemn. I just try to let it go, to understand where that person is coming from, I try to not take it personal. 

One little crack, I hear it only too late. And I am left trying to scrape myself off the floor, wishing is been silent, reminding myself that I am still a good person. I know me, I know my heart, my intent. It does matter, to me.

A Patchwork Life (part one)

You know how beautiful an old patchwork quilt can be? It has a story to every tear mended and each new fabric added. That is how I see my life. It is beautiful. It has been torn, drug through the dirt, left damp a few times, seen a bit too much sun, and needed much mending. And I am not even close to done! I have experienced a lot in these short 35 years I have lived, and each bit has added a colorful memory, an interesting twist to who I am.

I was born to a single mom, I am the oldest. I have two younger sisters that I was raised with, one older stepbrother, and one younger brother who I wasn’t raised with. We had a hard life at times. There was physical, mental, and sexual abuse in the house when I was between 5-7 years old. My mother took us all and fled that horrible environment. I told a lie to the police while we stayed at a shelter to help our escape. At seven I knew that we could just not go back to that man. My mother struggled, we moved many times throughout my younger years. I don’t know how we got by. I know it wasn’t easy for my mom. She has depression. We eventually landed in Shoreline, Washington in 1992, in a trailer park next to a small lake. I played so hard as a child, often times coming home just after dark with dirt everywhere and new scratches on my arms or legs, and holes in my clothes. My imagination went wild while I was a child, I can’t really say its changed much. I had a hard time making friends when I was young with kids my own age. I either hung out with my little sister and her friends, or adults. Both seemed to be able to accept me as I was and not make fun of my way of playing.

As I approached adulthood, I sought out the company of people who lived an alternative lifestyle. Hippies. I moved across state to Spokane with my cousin a few months after my 18th birthday. We had a lot of fun, but we weren’t being very responsible. We went to Barter Faires, and stayed out late. I am thankful that we didn’t find ourselves in more trouble. I also fell very much in love with a man. I had only dated boys before that, and I was still only 18. He was 22 years old and already had two young children. We were only together together a few months, but as I left my apartment behind and stuck out my thumb, I knew I wasn’t over him.

That summer, my cousin and I hitchhiked down the west coast and east into Arizona. I was headed to my first National Rainbow Gathering of the Tribes. The trip down the coast was a blast in my opinion. I rarely felt unsafe, even climbing into stranger’s vehicles, or sleeping just off of on ramps to the highway. Mostly I traveled with a guy named Cylindrian, who I had met in Spokane. He was only 16, a run away from Canada. He was generally very soft spoken, but when needed he could play the part of a protective boyfriend. We talked for hours, not that there was much else to do, and I really enjoyed his company. We arrived in the Sitgreaves National Forest right as the sun was setting. My cousin and her boyfriend had left in a different car just before we entered Arizona and we were to find them before setting up camp. Cylinder and I didn’t even have a tent, or blanket. We fell asleep cuddled under a big velvet skirt I had made from an antique dress, on the rocky ground. It was so dark, we had no idea where we were and it was cold! In the morning, I think he and I woke at the same time to someone nearby shouting “Welcome Home! We Love You!” and the echo of hundreds of “love you’s” moved in waves around us. It brought tears to my eyes. We stayed there about a month.

Cylindar found fairie camp and I only saw him one other time, covered in glitter and paint.

After a few more months of traveling I came back home. I felt disconnected from my life and started to make rash decisions. I got pregnant that fall and moved in with my mom and sister. I got a job and started planning how I wanted to raise the child that grew inside me. It was a lonely experience being pregnant for the first time. I felt more love for her than I had ever felt for anyone, ever. But I was afraid and sad also. I didn’t know what I was doing, and I didn’t have anyone by my side throughout it all. I cried myself to sleep most nights. I felt a lot of pain with the changes my body was going through, but I had hope. My mother and my sister were there for me and I treated them badly. When I was home I was either sleeping or yelling at them to leave me alone.  We survived though and they were at the birth of my first child. 

The first six months of her life I struggled. I was new to being a parent; of having someone depend solely on me. I breastfed, used cloth diapers, and sought out to connect with other young moms. In that first year I think I felt the most loved and yet most alone up til that point in my life. I lost most of my social life because hanging out wasn’t as much fun as it once was and I just thought about my baby girl the whole time. 

Around the time she turned one, I was taking us both to a nation rainbow gathering in Montana. That was quite an adventure.

I will update and finish this at another time, just want to get it out there! 

Intense love

Have you yet experienced a love and understanding so strong that it seems to raise your level of vibration? 

I don’t have all the answers and I believe that each person has their own take on this feeling of intense love. 

One friendship I have is unique to me. I have known him half my life, we dated when I was 17 and the fierceness of his energy scared me away, but we remained friends. 

When we are together I can feel his soul holding mine, caressing me on a level I have only experienced with him. Most times we hardly touch. We talk about nothing and everything. At times I have acted naturally around him, but became self-aware and realized that no matter what I do or say, he loves  me. This is a freeing friendship. 

We don’t live near each other and don’t connect as often as either of us would like. That is in part due to the different paths we took while trying to “grow up.” 

I strongly feel though that living so far apart is a good thing for us both. We have done the “what if” conversation. One thing that keeps me grounded is that we could never really know what life would be like if we had been married. Would he have been able to handle me at full strength? Or I him? Would we still be in similar situations having giving our all to each other only to be starting over with someone else? Or would we still be happy and in love? 

I am happy for my journey, all of which has made me the amazing woman I am today, still growing, learning.

And I am grateful for the passion we share whether we are close enough to touch, or only together with words. Maybe I’d like to see more of him, but even the distance is right. I love my life with my partner, and I’m glad for his acceptance of my standing, of how I choose to love others. 

Love is so powerful, it’s too much to contain, you just got to go with it.

Where am I going?

For the last few years I have been living without much direction. I just did what ever was needed to get by in the day to day, not really working towards much. I wanted to be at peace, to find happiness within myself. My husband and I decided to end our relationship during the last trimester of our final pregnancy together. We still shared a home, and it was emotionally difficult. He is one of my closest friends, but closing that chapter of our lives took some time, a lot of tears and talking it out, and eventually physical space. We have lived seperately for about 18months now. It doesn’t seem like much time, but a lot of growth has happened for the both of us. 

I am at the point where I feel it’s time to get started on something. That isn’t to say I’m doing nothing though. I have some amazing children. I have a really nice relationship. And I have this old converted bus that is slowly continually evolving to meet our needs and desires. I could go back to school and try finishing my degree in social services. I could start a new path in school, maybe be a nurse? I could just keep being a part time nanny for friends to make ends meet? I don’t know what I want to do, I have the nagging urge to buckle down and do what others might want of me. Get a real job, put my babies into child care, move into an apartment…but I really don’t want to.  Its summer, we still have a few things that need to be finished on the bus before we can park it somewhere that it can be properly connected. I like the simple life that comes with this home. I have a storage unit that I need to start going through and getting rid of things. My goal is to reduce the crud by half. I feel like I’m able to start living a more simplified life, one with more opportunity for taking the time to consciously raise my children, to work on improving myself, and to explore what it really means to be me. Part of being able to do that is my partner. He just accept me where I am and is fully interested in watching me grow as a person. Even when he doesn’t agree with whatever I think I’m into at the moment, he just sits back and watches me go through the process of trying things on, checking out my reflection. And then deciding if whatever it is will be a good fit or not. Wow! Amazing, right? I think so!

So anyhow, I am in this process. This wandering through my own mind, looking for answers, trying on schools of thought, weighing out the compatability of different ways of living. I don’t feel unhappy. I do like who I am, flaws and all! I just want to find what works and go with it to make life better for myself and my children.

My life

Wake up, hurry now, is the coffee ready yet?

Feed them, it’s time to get dressed, well aren’t you ready yet?


*dont think you can escape it, it’s your life so take it, and hold it in your arms like a fragile newborn baby. Just open up your eyes and see the beauty deep inside yourself and know you are strong enough to make it…oh, you’ll make it.*

Nap time, to get some things done, not as much fun as you’d expect. 

You feed them again, but then the sun sets. Did your day go as you expected.

You lay them down, thinking it’s your turn. It hasn’t come to an end.

Cause he needs his, got to get yours too.  why does love making have to end?


Four kids, plus him you’re lucky. There’s no wait for your life to begin.

Sweet dreams, wild and free. Just like it was in the beginning.