Mental Check List...

I was recently told this is the 1st of my many divorces because I'm not going to find what I'm looking for. Are my wants/needs too far-fetched? Am I reaching for something unattainable?
So I thought I should write down what I want so I don't lose focus.

1. Respect simple enough, respect me & choices.
2. Laughter brighten everyone of my days.
3. Share my life don't want to change it or except it to revolve around you.
4. Challenge me both physically & mentally.
5. Openness be open to my thoughts & ideas.
6. Love me for me I'm learning to be comfortable with who I am.
7. Be careful with words I give a lot of weight into what is said.
8. Passion for life, love & sex.

Sounds simple enough... I keep asking myself would I be willing to trade anything out and at this point in my life, I'm going to say no. I am reaching for the stars & I'm willing fall in the process.

Wake up my world!

My field...

I'm standing in a field, faced to the wind. I take a deep breath, the sweet smell of grass & juniper send a sense of peace through me. I can feel the warmth of the sun on my body. The wind seems to be whispering songs in my ear. I smile.

I feel hands along my sides, drawing me close. I feel lips on my neck & a whisper of Hello, that voice sends shivers down my spine. I turn & I'm looking at a smile that melts away the world around me. We kiss briefly and that moment leaves me yearning for more. He pulls me slowly to a blanket, bottle of wine & a daydream. We pour a glass. From the ruby red of the color, to the smell of warm earth & hot summer wind, the wine reminds me of the joys of life. We take long sips letting it fill our souls with it's sensuous power. We kiss & this time we share our whole bodies, holding nothing back. The wind, the sun & the wine all-whispering, helping & telling us to never forget this moment....

Our eyes meet & we both have a look of desire, want & passion. I feel his body pressed against mine. He holds me so closely I can feel his heartbeat and smell the sweetness of the wine on his breath.

I can feel his fingers trace my subtle curves, his knowing hands stopping at the right places. The sheerness of my summer dress, lingering fingers & nibbles on my neck, make me long for more. He knows how to tease me. I pull him close & whisper how much I want him. But he already knows this. Do I have to beg? He tells me I can wait.

He stands over me now, I can't see his face, the sun is at his back, but I can feel his eyes on me. Without him blocking the cool summer wind, I can feel my skin beneath the sheer fabric. He pulls me up to him & I feel the warmth of his body. He slowly moves his hands up my sides & over my head. Taking the dress with him. As I feel the cool summer breeze on my bare skin, I can't help feeling alive & free. I draw my hands up to his chest & start to unbutton his shirt, taking my time. As his shirt falls to the ground I run my fingers down his back & I feel his body shudder beneath mine. I follow the outline of his waist & unbutton his shorts. We stand there for a moment letting the wind wash around us & again it whispers a song...

Old Age...

I often wonder what kind of old lady will I be. Cranky... Content... Drunk... Happy to be alive... Pissed off...






Words of wisdom for the youth.

Don't give a shit about the youth.

Stuck in my youth...

Refuse to admit I'm old... Act my age...

Letting go...

To let go does not mean to stop caring,
it means I can't do it for someone else.
To let go is not to cut myself off,
it's the realization I can't control another.
To let go is not to enable,
but allow learning from natural consequences.
To let go is to admit powerlessness, which means
the outcome is not in my hands.
To let go is not to try to change or blame another,
it's to make the most of myself.
To let go is not to care for,
but to care about.
To let go is not to fix,
but to be supportive.
To let go is not to judge,
but to allow another to be a human being.
To let go is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes,
but to allow others to affect their destinies.
To let go is not to be protective,
it's to permit another to face reality.
To let go is not to deny,
but to accept.
To let go is not to nag, scold or argue,
but instead to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.
To let go is not to adjust everything to my desires,
but to take each day as it comes and cherish myself in it.
To let go is not to criticize or regulate anybody,
but to try to become what I dream I can be.
To let go is not to regret the past,
but to grow and live for the future.

Iron Bars

Sitting alone she stares out across the landscape. The only thing keeping her company is the wind in her hair & the rain on her face.

She breaths and wants warmth to fill her lungs but it's damp & cold. She kicks her feet to pick up speed, trying to fly away. Chains are holding her back. Iron bars holding fast to the ground.

She looks down & a puddle has formed. Clouds can cry. Washing away fear, sadness & dust that settles in our souls. The puddle looks back. She smiles & it smiles. She cries & it cries.

Her feet are pushing, kicking & swinging. Trying to find the strength to carry her away but the puddle remains.

Fuck this.. She stomps & the puddle is gone. Leaving dry earth & solid ground.

She gets off the swing & feels grounded. The movement stops & things stand still.

Oregon Memoires

My last trip to Central Oregon got me thinking about my grandparents & my childhood playground. How they influenced me & in some way, still do. My grandmother was in one word, joy. Every time I think of her a smile washes over my face. She loved Christmas & had gift shaking presents down to an art. I still swear she told my sisters' & me to toss our cat into the packages to see if any would rip. She never wanted us kids to be idle. Always telling us to get outside & play. Or did she want some peace & quiet? Grandma once told us she would "stomp our asses into a mud puddle" if we didn't get out side.

My Grandfather passed away a few years before, so I have less memories of him. Even to this day, I can't smell original ChapStick without thinking of him. Him & I are a lot alike; I seem to have about 10 hobbies at once, just like him. He was a gentle grandfather. I never remember hearing him raise his voice. Even after my cousins, sisters & I would take his beloved tools in the canyon to build forts.
Oh, those forts!! A couple of years ago I sneaked behind their old home climber over the fence, found the same trail we used as kids & walked down into the canyon. Past the boulders we named & trees we climbed. I stopped a few times to grab a handful of sagebrush, I swear that smell is embedded deep in my soul. The memories hit me like a freight train. I found a familiar place to sit & closed my eyes long enough to hear my childhood laughter. Most of the rocks we had used lay untouched. I laid my hand gently upon them & felt a connection to the past, my past & felt peace. I knew right then and there, my past & the people in it had blessed me. The last time I had been there was the day my Grandmother passed away. I sat on that same spot and cried it seemed forever. I cried for my mom, for me & my childhood. I knew they would be selling that home, those memories & nothing would be the same. But this time I was crying for a very different reason, I was crying tears of happiness & joy.
People never seem to sit & listen for the laughter.

Overreacting...

You're overreacting

I hear those words & it brings back so many bad memories. I'm only reacting to things that hurt me.

Please don't disregard my hurt & sadness as overreacting.

sadness for today!

Alone with myself

I found this picture on the internet some months ago & it has stuck with me. I can close my eyes feel the cool autumn breeze, I can smell the yellowing leaves & I can hear my footsteps along the pebble path. Everything is peaceful & I'm alone.
My mom once said to me we are who we are when we're alone. For the most part I'm content alone. It's my time to recharge, evaluate & center myself.