"ignore the story. see the soul. remember to love. you will never regret it" --- Seane Corn

"ignore the story. see the soul. remember to love. you will never regret it" --- Seane Corn
it's a jungle out there

Friday, December 24, 2010

Christmas Eve 2010

It SO doesn't feel like Christmas Eve

Christmas in our house growing up was a huge deal.
My mom went all out though she never appeared to enjoy it.
She always just looked stressed and aggravated.
At least that's how I remember it.


She loved to cook. I remember one December Saturday when I was maybe 9 our daddy took all 5 of us off somewhere. I think maybe to see the Rockettes at Radio City. She spent the whole day alone baking. It might have been the best day of her entire year. When we got home that evening, there were racks of cookies covering every surface of the kitchen and dining room.
Dark chocolate truffley things. Russian tea cakey things. Jelly filled things. Chocolate lacy things.

She made Christmas ornaments. Collected and spray painted pine cones. 12 drummers drumming out of clothespins. Lacy white crocheted snowflakes. I remember watching her stick them to the side of the box freezer in the basement, smeared with starch so they would dry stiff and hang flat on the tree. I remember us making felt Christmas Bells when I was 6 or 7 or 8. She had already taught me how to use a sewing machine. We cut the felt. We sewed them together. We glued the ric-rak. We punched holes and fixed colored grommets with some cool tool contraption she had.

We made the bells together. That kinda shit didn't happen very often.

She made us Christmas dresses every year. All 4 of us. We would go to the fabric store and pick out patterns and fabric and inevitably she'd be up till 3 am Christmas Eve eve finishing the last dress. Because on Christmas Eve dayshe started cooking. She'd pull together a menu from the December issues of Food and Wine and Bon Appetit and Gourmet. This was back in the day when it was almost impossible to find something like cardamom or fresh juniper berries. A crown roast or fresh oysters needed to be special ordered.

And the Midnight Christmas Eve service in our fancy Christmas Dresses.
Daddy and I sang in the choir we sucked
Candles. Incense. Heavily spiked eggnog.
What??? we were Episcopal

So. Not much Christmas Spirit around here. It's not my usual Grinchy-tude. I'm just not that into it this year. The kids put up the tree. I bought boxes ofprobably gross frozen finger foods at BJs to take to Sister Halona's for our Christmas Feast. Screw cooking. I voted we order in Chinese. Sister Halona almost excommunicated me after that.

The pict on my header? From last year. I got the lights up but they're not plugged in. A few blue balls are hanging. Maybe I'll get the rest up tomorrow yes tomorrow as in christmas

Jack looked out the window at the half decorated porch and said not to be criticistic mom, but you're like the last one to get your lights up.
Criticistic? Did you say criticistic? Is that a word?
It is now. I'm George Bush.
Fukin funny kid


I snuck out this evening to fill my new xanax prescription pharmacy closed get some feminine hygiene products damn peri-menopause and buy last minute candy for stocking stuffers.
I drove down Main St, looking at the lights and thinking about how un-christmasy I feel.
Filled up the van with gas and picked up my Friday night 6 of hard cranberry lemonade.
Mr Gas Station Man asked for my ID.

I loved that

ID? Of course! hee hee hee Handed over my license.
Puzzled look on Mr Gas Station Man's face. I chuckled

Is this you? Which is funny cause I look even younger on my ID

Yup. I pulled off my glasses and laughed. 47. Good genes

He smiled and said God Gives

I smiled back and said He Sure Does

The Universe is Abundant

Merry Fuckin Christmas

Thursday, December 23, 2010

This isn't effin Kansas anymore

I've always loved that movie. I think it's the most perfect movie ever made.
Every single second of every single scene is a perfect still shot.

I've loved it since I was 3. The Wicked Witch of the West always scared the shit out of me.

And my nose always stings when Dorothy says goodbye to the Scarecrow.


I feel just a little ok maybe a lot like I've landed in Oz.
Things are somewhat familiar but also intense and heavy and my emotions have been splashed with a bucket of Technicolor.

But I still feel like me.

Which I guess is a good thing.

Me. Up in a cyclone.
Watching the elements of my day my life tumble past my picture window eyes.

Me. Looking for Peace and a way Home.

Me. Building my Posse along the way.
A Cast of Characters, also searching for their missing parts but who have such good lessons to teach and such good lovin help to give.

Friends. Patients. Co-workers. A Sears Repair Technician that's a story for another day. Bloggers who pour their guts out.
All on their own Yellow Brick Roads. Their crazy life situations tossed in my path as a reminder that we're all in this together.
As a reminder that I am the lucky one.
As a reminder that things could be so much worse.

There but for the grace of god go i.

I have my health. Physical and mental sort of. My kids are pretty ok for now. I have resources.
I am extraordinarily fortunate even in the presence of Oz the Great and Terrible.

I have my Field of Poppies in the form of a baby dose of xanax and a Mike's Hard Lemonade at bedtime.
A bitch needs her sleep, right SB?

So there you go. Trying to find my way back home. There's no hourglass. There isn't even really a Wicked Witch. Just a long path.
But I have good shoes with lots of support and a high arch so I'm ok.

I'll see you on the Road.

Saturday, December 18, 2010


It's been a week of reflection.

I haven't stepped foot in blogland. I've used the time to think and process and understand.
And feel.

It's been quiet here.
Not a bad quiet. Kind of a hmmm... maybe this is ok quiet.
A calm quiet.
Maybe a good quiet.

I don't know yet.

It's been a week of lots of deep breaths.
And lots of deep thoughts and lots of deep feelings.

It's been a week of honesty.

Love this. I've been afraid of changing cause I've built my life around you
ignore the dumb-funny ad in the beginning

I've linked to it before. It squeezes my heart.

Monday, December 13, 2010

A Christmas Treat

This is The Funniest Holiday Post I've ever read.

And since Christmas is all about sharing, I'm sending it to you as a gift.

Cause you are all awesome and I want you to giggle today.


Sunday, December 12, 2010

Sunday School from the Beacon Satellite Chapel of the Church of the Batshit Crazy

This was last Sunday's post before the shit hit the fan.
I'm terrible at thank-you notes but I want to thank each and every one of you awesome bloggers for your comments and emails and most of all your love.
You have given me strength and perspective.
You got me through.

thank you


I understand about a fingernail's worth of the Hindu religion and culture. It's insanely complicated and convoluted and there are like 47 Sanskrit words that seem to all mean the same thing. Or one word can mean 112 different things.

Ganesh Ganesha Ganapati Vinayaka Omkara Vighnahara
that's just the beginning
he has 108 different names

I love the mythology. I love the symbolism. I love the color and the intensity and the ornamentation. It's malleable. It's multilayered. It sits well with me. From the million gazillion symbols and specifics, I could conjure my perfect Ganesh.


Guardian of the Indian Home
Remover of Obstacles
Lord of Beginnings
Lord of Farming
Lord of Learning

Anyone can invoke Ganesha
He requires no priest as intermediary
He transcends religious, class, and caste

I first knew Ganesha as
the Remover of Obstacles to Happiness
since I don't believe in happiness
my dark and twisty
tweaked it to
the Remover of Obstacles to Understanding
much better
I don't need to be happy
I just need to understand

And I began to understand


all apparent contradictions
in the Universe and in my Brain
can be contained in Ganesha's big belly

Ganesha's trunk curves to the left
forming the shape of the sacred syllable OM
the vibration at the origin of the cosmos
Ganesha appeared with the sound
and danced the Universe into existence

the great sage Vyasa agreed to recite
the epic narrative of India
only if Ganesh agreed to
write it down
without halting.
the recitation went on for weeks
when all his pens were worn down,
Ganesha broke off his tusk and dipped it in ink
thus saving the story of India
as the Bhagavad Gita

i've tried to read it 3 times but it continues to be ice picks in my eyes

the Lord of Storytellers
funny huh?

the lotus flower symbolizes all of creation
as well as spiritual purity

the bowl of sweets represents the
pleasures of knowledge and spiritual wisdom

In one hand, my Ganesha holds an axe
to break the bonds of ignorance
the axe also severs
the ties that bind us to material things

One hand is raised with the symbol of enlightenment
see! it means a bunch of different things
which comes with liberation from all want and desire

the Serpent coiled around Ganesha's belly
symbolizes Kundalini Shakti
the coiled and latent psychic energy
deep within each of us that seeks union
with the undifferentiated consciousness
of the Universe
we are all one

though Ganesha's many arms are raised to attain the spiritual
one foot always remains well grounded


Saturday, December 11, 2010


There's a whole lot of suffering going on.

I had this thought on my way to work.
And at the same time I thought no wonder we created religion

We have too.
There is no other way to explain the place that suffering occupies in our existance as a species.

Unless life just sucks and then we die.

Now, I'm not saying our suffering is proof of anything beyond this life.
Nor am I saying that our suffering serves any purpose at all.
But it exists.
And it tortures us.
And maybe as humans with our oversized brains, we have to make things overly complicated.
We have to explain and understand and rationalize and punish.
We need rules.
When we break the rules we suffer.
When we commit transgressions we suffer.

Yet sometimes we are innocent and find ourselves in the crosshairs of a tsunami or crosstown bus or a violent military regime or a misfire in a cell's nucleus that results in cancer.
And we suffer.

We suffer because we are human.
We make mistakes because we're human.
We make sucky decisions because we're human.

I work really really hard to do the best I can. And still I fuck up.
I'm only human.
And maybe humans fuck up, or maybe we just exist, but no matter what we suffer.

So. There must be a point to all the suffering.

Or not

I have found that my suffering breeds compassion.
Today I am grinch butt free. Today I am giving thanks.
Today I can get lost in my patients and feel their suffering because I'm experiencing my own.

So. I am responsible for the choices I make.
I am human. I fuck up. And then I suffer.
And others suffer too.

But I am thankful that the Universe gives me a silver lining of compassion
rather than bitterness or anger or hatred.

At least for now.

Monday, December 6, 2010


Last time, there was so much fear. And the fear lead to anger.

And the anger allowed me to plow through. I did not give a damn.

I probably looked like a Heartless Bitch.
unless you know the 12 steps

This time, there is only overwhelming sadness.

I have always chosen my children above all else.

No anger. Only a smidge of fear. it will be ok

This time, there is only enormous loss. And enormous heartbreak.

And sadness.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

thanksgiving 2010

All week month I've been trying to cultivate conjure gratitude

It has not been easy.

Not only has is it not been easy to not feel grateful
see all that negativity but it's even more uncomfortable knowing that I'm not feelin the love.

Before prozac I was painfully aware of all things wonderful in my life.
I was even more painfully aware of my inability to FEEL the wonderfulness.

Then the cloud was lifted the veil pulled away the scales fell from my eyes
and I saw the light

Can I hear an amen sistah?

Well. Once a body truly experiences gratitude and thankfulness and contentment and maybe possibly just a wee bit of joy it really sucks to go back.

Recently I've been Discontent. Edgy. Wanting. Lacking.

Feeling these things in the heart and the body when the mind knows everything is
SO FUCKING GOOD really sucks donkey balls.


A few weeks ago, I was all in a confused tizzy.
I went to yoga to stop my head from popping off. I hung out after class with Yogini Shannon.
I was am in a
what the fuck am I doing? what the fuck am I thinking? what is my problem?
I don't know what I'm doing I don't know what I'm thinking what is my fucking problem?
kind of space

Yogini Shannon looked at me and said your MOM died

A flash of light woke me up.
I looked at her and kind of laughed as I burst into tears

my MOM died


Shannon saw me and hugged me and felt me dissolve as I sobbed on her shoulder

Oh my GOD Shannon, my MOM died

She said it was like watching a blister pop. She said it was radical.
Michelle, you still have to GRIEVE.

Fuck me


Since then I've been having weird dreams about my folks.

A dream that we're arranging for them to move to a new place and I'm worried my dad will decompensate and
IN THE DREAM I realize he's already dead and I don't have to worry about him.
In the dream I feel relief and gratitude he's already dead he won't suffer anymore thank god he already died

And dreams of my mom. One of her being very present but not being able to speak to me.
And last night an oddly reassuring dream. We were all lined up in a bed head to foot like sardines she loved sardines on saltines or enslaved africans crossing the ocean. I could feel her lying cool and dead on my right and it was ok.
Then energy infused her body and I felt it warm up next to mine and she was alive. Her hand reached for mine and squeezed it it's ok but I could feel her fingertips were still cold despite the warmth coming from her body.
And the coolness of her hand told me it was temporary and then she was gone.


So today is Thanksgiving. I think it was Her favorite holiday. We'll stand in a circle at Sister Halona's and I will remember that last Thanksgiving I stood next to Her, her cool left hand in my right. I will remember that Ted announced there would be a new family member at the next Thanksgiving and I will remember that my mom kept looking at me in disbelief and I was aggravated by her and I will remember saying don't look at me I'm not the one who's pregnant.

But that was before I understood.

And today there is one less and one more.
A new baby is in our circle. A baby she tried to wait for.


I don't know. I'm feeling so off balance and I'm having to re-examine so much.

I just want a more peaceful heart.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Kim Update and Other Sundry Loose Ends

I'm really bad at finishing things kinda like this post.
I start projects all the time and get almost but never quite done.

It's been 4 years and my pink and purple house is only 75% painted. Inside and out.

I started a handmade quilt while trying to get pregnant with Jack.
think Like Water for Chocolate.
It's balled up in the bottom of my closet not. quite. finished.

3 or 4 years ago I told my mom I'd recover seats of her dining room chairs.
No biggie. Just scissors and a staple gun. I think I got 5 done.
I promised Sister Halona I'd finish the rest so we have somewhere to put our tushes on Thanksgiving. We'll see about that...

My Ganesh tattoo is finished. But all I had to do was lie down and open my wallet.
Does that sound dirty?
I still haven't posted picts. I will.
I wish it was still warm and I didn't have to cover it up all the time. I love it.

Cultural Sensitivity: A 3 Part Series only has 2 parts.
And that's probably the way it will stay.

I did see Toothless Mom of 6 yesterday with 4 of her kids and since I'm in a place of more compassion with myself and therefore the Universe my Grinch Butt isn't so big these days. Or small.

You know what I mean.

And Kim.

I've been wanting to write about Kim for months now.
But like I said, I'm not so good at finishing things.

Kim is kicking butt. She started a blog and a website.
She's fund raising and granting wishes.

She does NOT give up when things get tough.
She does NOT leave half finished projects on the bottom of her closet floor.
Nothing is 75%.

She does NOT defer her dreams. Kim does NOT like raisins.

If you are shopping online this season, click on the iGive button over on my sidebar.
Lots of major vendors will donate a percent of your purchase to the charity of your choice. Easy Peasy. And it costs you nothing but a few extra clicks.

So. Go visit. Check Kim out. Leave some good love.

Your fairy is called Columbine Icedancer
She is a bone chilling bringer of justice for the vulnerable.
She lives in mushroom fields and quiet meadows.
She is only seen when the bees swarm and the crickets chirrup.
She wears lilac and purple like columbine flowers. She has icy blue butterfly wings.