Hiding, beyond our small selves


The scars of a generation?
The trophies?
This burden to bare.
Everything a syndrome.
Running from ourselves.
The syndrome of human emotions,
I wanna be
My scars,
the burden of
my experiences.
My scars,
brighter for the
love of friends,
struggles for truth.
My scars bright
the burden of
The scars of my generation.

“On the removal of the word ‘no’ from the English language”

Rendered unacceptable,


has left the building.


“Can you stay after?”

“Just one more?”

“Don’t you wanna…..”


I ca-ah-ah-



a version of “no.”


Duty becomes





if I must,

to build room

for my “No,”


So that my


can live.

More than I can stomach

My eye are big

My heart is bigger,

but my stomach is small.


My dreams are biggest.

My hopes are greatest,

but my stomach is small.


Today I try.

Tomorrow I try harder.

For what?

I’m not sure.


To enlarge my stomach?


That sounds about right.


My stomach,

my moderator,

my greatest adversary in life,

telling me something.


Rarely choosing to listen.

driven by hopes and dreams,

“more than I can stomach”

reminding me,


Chose wisely.


Your eyes are big.

Your heart is bigger,

but your stomach is small,

for there is living to do.

On Being Present

I drove 29 miles today and listened to 1 song 7 times.  Don’t laugh.  I know you have done the same damn thing.  It could have been rush hour traffic that got you, or google maps, or maybe even your incredibly important upcoming event.  Regardless, you’ve been got, and you missed it the first 6 times.  Or was that 7?

Fighting to fully psychoanalyze myself BEFORE getting to my therapy appointment, I discovered that I needed to ________________ (you fill in the blank!).  Genius!  Dr. Smyth would be so proud of me!  I was going to save her so much time and myself so much money! Question: How could this not be a win win solution?

Answer: I am not a licensed therapist.

Ever tried giving yourself a tattoo?  Me neither, so I am not entirely sure what I was thinking other than invoking the spirit of the old family motto, “this is camp go-do-it-yourself.” Knowing full well that that mantra has not always served me well, should have been clue number one.

Clue number two could have been the fact that I listened to the same damn song 7 times in a 35 minute  stretch.  Something was not right with this picture.

You see, I am practicing being present.  I am working on living my moment so hard right now that I have even cried at work.

“I am so authentically growing and I am totally doing this like so well!” I hear my brain say.

<cough>  “lies”  <cough>

I am human.  I am multi-faceted.  I am alive.  I am distracted.  I will fail.  That does not make me a failure.

  • Truth number one:  We are always going to underestimate our emotional damage.
  • Truth number two:   We are always going to rush healing.
  • Truth number three:  We will have to rely on the love and help of others.
  • Truth number four: We will have to forgive BOTH ourselves AND others, more than usual.
  • Truth number five: We need rest.

Some people call this boundaries, some call it healthy living, some call it white space.  I call it rest; not physical sleep “rest,” but down time.  We need time that is truly unplugged, engaged, and soul searching.

We need time where we can’t hide from our hurt and pain by losing ourselves in something or someone else…..this is why driving is so dangerous….  It is a single, solitary, meditative act that can be incredibly powerful….yet we fill it up with texting, podcasts, phone calls, you name it.

Even built in silence, we crowd out and over.

How can we be present if we can’t stand sitting with ourselves? How can we be present when we are so involved in our lives that we listen to one song seven times? These are not markers or ill health.  They are guideposts to conscious living.  I am slowly learning them.

Tomorrow, I may fail desperately, but today, I fought for now. I put my phone up.  I ignored the texts.

Today I may have failed desperately and tomorrow I may find a way to pay all my bills and achieve financial freedom.

Regardless, this moment doesn’t change, nor do our hopes or dreams or fears or the fact that my daughter is sleeping in the next room.

This is now.

There is a glass of wine to be drunk and a husband to fucked.

I have living to do.



The Ties that Bind, one


Fuck it all.

I have to start somewhere.



My wound is deep,

My credit is low,

But my worth is high.


Where to start.



Forget and forge ahead?


Forgetting works

Forgetting brings low

Forgetting is not valuable

To my worth.



Loving my self

Providing for needs

Slowly re-paying.



The shylock curse

The passage to the underworld

The useless paper








Image by Hartwick HKD