Memorize this Night

We met in the park just before dusk and sat on a bench next to sleeping guy with one boot. We ate figs and talked with ease about all the things that aren’t so easy. We stayed until after the sun went down and the fire juggler was done.

washingtonsquareonebootfigs2figfirejugglerWe walked to dinner and ate our falafel sandwiches sitting on a stoop.Taking bites, wrapped in foil with their mess running down our fingers.
We took the subway to China Town, and met a friend for drinks. The music played loud and we all yelled over it to each other, and laughed until our faces hurt or until our words became serious again.

drinksI left sober and took the long way home. Walking slow so I could memorize what each step put me in front of and thinking of how glad I am to have met you. The man at the fruit stand gave me blueberries and told me I was beautiful, I bowed in gratitude and ate them all before I made it to my apartment. As I lay in bed, with the fan on and the windows open I play back all the details I can remember hoping that by the morning I will have memorized this night.




jarsI’ve pulled all of my hurts out me and suspended them in jars. I’ve carefully cut them away from what is still good and what is salvageable. And although I am tender and sore I am so relieved to be rid of them. But before I let them go, I want to really see them, one at a time. I look at the distorted figures of my pains and heartaches floating in liquid, behind glass and under lids. I look at them all lined up neatly in a row. They never felt so neat seething inside of me. They look so still now. still and calm and totally motionless accept for a gentle sway as I spin the jar around to see from all sides. It still makes me nervous to get close, even knowing they’ve been disconnected. Knowing they can’t hurt me now, severed from my heart. It still makes me nervous to get close remembering how hard they would thrash about inside of me. Remembering how sharp or heavy or violent they’ve been. Yet now to see them from the outside, to peer in thru the glass and see every detail with the light shining thru, I find them nothing less than lovely.

Anxiety is a Sorceress Bitch


Anxiety is a sorceress bitch

Soaking in thru the cracks of me

Seizing my body

Spinning and spilling me out all over

churning in my mind

Mixing me up with my hurts and fears

So I do my best not to speak

Anxiety is a sorceress bitch

and when she takes me over

I do my best not to speak

I light fancy candles

I soak in the shower

I listen to heavy metal

I sit in my underwear and drink tea

I do my best not to speak

Anxiety is a sorceress bitch

by whom I refuse to be bullied

from which I refuse to die

when I start to feel her grip loosen

I make my escape

I dance

I run

I drive

Anything to make my body mine again


I do my best not to speak


A Start Over Girl


I am a start over girl. A table clearing, burn it all, leave in the night, kind of girl. It is a  dysfunctional by-product of anxiety, perfectionism, curiosity and restlessness, but as of late I have been feeling like there has to be a better way. Sometimes it’s mild, like re-writing my To-Do list until I like my handwriting, or changing the color of my hair. Other times it’s more drastic, like in a fit of fashion frustration, putting everything in a bag as it comes out of the dryer and driving it straight to Goodwill. Once, I even got in my car and left for work, only to drive straight past it and never look back. Now somethings are meant to be wiped clean, as that job was at a Bob Evans, but the point is more that it was a decision made from compulsion rather than a conscious and intentional change. An option that, as I mature, only seems to carry greater loss. So this feeling I’ve been having, this desire for an uprooting” of sorts has me in a unique situation. Unique because, somehow after years of compulsive starting over, taking few things seriously and doing my damnedest to not get attached, I have still managed to find myself with a collection of pretty great circumstances. Great enough that I am not willing to just walk away from any of them. Great enough that I am pretty well attached and yet, my insatiable wanderlust and rumbling hunger for brand new surroundings, anonymity, adventure and variety is far from curbed.

But with decisions about careers, relationships, family, dreams, money and friends looming about, I can totally see how this is where so many people get stuck. Either surrendering to the idea of settling down, making commitments, signing contracts and growing old or deciding to never care about anything. It’s easy to feel like it would be selfish, or irresponsible to walk away from any of it or risk instability just for some curious desire to know more but for me it’s equally as heavy to consider this as being the best there is, no matter how good it is. But my default to take the easy way, to sneak out and bail, doesn’t feel right to me any more either. Goddamn adult hood.

So what I am left with is accepting that there is not going to be a clear path when it comes to changing course or picking a new direction.and I am encouraged when I remember that no decision is more right than the one made in love and no love is more important than that which we feel for ourselves. That those of us who live with courage in our hearts will be bound together always, and those who do not…..well, that’s their problem. The “rules” of growing up are all fucked up anyway and as far as I can tell doing things traditionally isn’t going to  bring me anywhere close to what I want. I envy none who have followed the marked trail and am inspired by those who forge their own way. I will gladly be a single feather loose in the wind and live committed to being free, finding comfort in the truth that there is always more to be and that those who are able to understand us, do so because they understand themselves.



Lana Del Rey-Ride

I seriously am never sure what to do when I find myself still awake at 4:30 a.m. Do I hurry and go to bed allowing myself to sleep far into the day, or do I just stay up. Stay up until I drop. What is it about the early morning hours, the place far beyond tired, that holds my place of rest and shines light on some of my deepest insights?

This night/morning’s clarity comes from this perfect piece from Lana Del-Rey. In truth there could be something realized from every line but something very specific made its way to me from this and it is……Sometimes, when you come to understand things about yourself and you’re not sure how to respond, it’s just better not to.

“When I’m at war with myself I ride, I just ride……..”



A Trifecta Moment

A trifecta moment is something I made up to describe the time in which all of you is in sync

When your heart is about to burst with love and your mind is free from any concern. When your body feels weightless and tingly and your soul is electric.