Just Some Shit I Was Thinking About

To fall in love with life

Over and again

To kiss the sweet lips of your demons with passion

Ruby lips 

Hair in braids and knots

Teenage tunes

Swinging

Singing

Pining for the moon

Put the pride to bed

Smile as it please me

Words of praise

Words to play

Where it comes from

Where it goes

Sadness 

Silence

Madness laughing

To be mad is amusing

Talking to tiles

laying on the floor

Bathtubs are for crying

The showerhead knows

But he's not telling

Secret fountain of wisdom

Nothing is wasted

Even the wastelands

The inane bullshit of the crossing 

 a cowardly fool 

an attendant lord

No Prince Hamlet, indeed

A girl played at watery reveries

but no Ophelia am I

I am in parts scattered across time

here and there

I am Emily

I am okay

I am sitting on a porch

sly fox

card in hand

The other players unseen

Flowers and boats

Lost in the revelry

Broken into pieces

There I was

Here I am

A mother

talking to myself

in my kitchen with 20 kinds of tea

 less cosmic mystery, perhaps 

 less amused flooring, certainly

More stable footing

Here we be

Blank pages

filled with thoughts

black and white

nothing to be serious about

just thoughts

Just here

The call

The promise

The unease of a blank page

I used to write in a blurry, buzzy fury.

Sharpie in hand

Just the right notebook

The Running

The procrastination

The unease of being 

I used to spin to music for hours

Hands flying

Circle, Circle, Circle

Just the right song

Swing, swing life away

As if someone was watching

Eyes admiring

Sing, sing to the sky

Sing for you

It's always been for you

Tea time. Well I'm having a beer. So I guess it's happy hour. Cheers! So I was time traveling today and teenage Emily came to hang out. We sang to all our favorite songs. We did our hair in twists and knots. Put on extra eyeliner and got into our feels. We danced. We cried. We swung on a swing and went running together. Music can really do that to you. Bring you back to a moment. A time capsule. Teenage Emily all feisty, pensive and angsty. Mostly, just so sad. But that really doesn't bother me so much anymore. To be honest. I think I enjoy my Sadness. Overthinking is kinda my thing. The trick is I think to both take yourself seriously and know you're totally full of shit. 

Zoom out. Keep zooming. A little farther... It all becomes so small you can hold it in your hand. Zoom in enough and there it is all in the palm of your hand. I guess that's the thing with magic. Like Willow Oftgood we would all do better to choose our own finger. Then point it where we like. Maybe to the moon. Maybe not. Or maybe just howl and feel the waves as the crash at our feet, and fuck it to all pontificating. The moon knows who she is. She doesn't need me to name her.

Mothers give us the gift of their lives. Their histories, problems, and loves. Writ only as we look at it. Shifting always. I look now. I see that my mother's darkness has saved me. She told me once that she tried to kill herself because she thought everyone would be better off without her. I've been there. I've sat with that thought. I'm glad she didn't die. I'm glad we talked about it. I'm glad for all the time we had since. My life is richer because she was there. 

It's good to have a lifeline out of the mental circus that doesn't end in death. I matter. You matter. You existing as yourself matters. No matter what that mean voice in your head says.  My mean voice goes something like this. Thinking about what a terrible unintentional disaster I make of damn near everything. But I always mean well. Poor thing didn't intended to burn the village. She was just enamored with the dancing of the flames. Because shiny! Can't focus. Here. There. Everywhere. Dropping things.  Has a lot of ideas but never fucking finishes a thing. Hypocrite somewhere in there. What a fucking scattered mess she is. Blah Blah blah. This usually happens if I need a sandwich or a nap, or something tapped the shame trigger. It used to overwhelm. It does so much less now. With practice one can watch the show and not get too entangled.

So yes. Here we are again. Back from destroying the world like King Kong. Oh my goody, goody gumdrops. Then zoom out, more, until I find my breath again. In and Out. The village still stands. A little smoky maybe. You are not the destroyer of worlds. You make a world. You made this world. This way of seeing. Is this what you want to see? A hot mess? Then I eat and sleep. Things seem brighter and more doable. I write in my gratitude journal. Practice, practice, practice. Breathe. Repeat.  

Zoom in. There are all the people. There is breakfast. A funny moment. Silas climbing into the swing with me. Asher foraging in the backyard, apples, mallow, and grape leaves. The birds fly. Adventures. Struggles. The interplay of it all. My family. Playing Super Mario World with my husband. Eating. Laughing. Chatting. Home. Why do I always want to run? There really isn't anything better than being here in all it's messy glory. 

So this in ending:

love

love

love

breathe

Eat snacks

snacks plus time equals shit

so go I and the rest of the world

To the bathroom