Dragon In You

Haven't we all said it at one point in time... I mean sometimes daily. "I just want to live my life" has been one of the most confusing statements for me. What is the balance of healthy boundaries and bat sh*t crazy? Why does it seem the bat sh*t tell you you're crazy and they are normal? And the real million dollar question... are they actually right? Why has my value always been in the hands of another? Who was it on the playground in first grade? What teacher gave me a side eye? And who told me to stop dancing? Most importantly, why did all these voices matter if God just asks us to aim partly at the dart board of ambiguous instruction, intermixed with what feeds our carnal and instant gratification....then hope for the best. That is after all how I lived almost all of my life. Thinking things would work out the way I wanted IF I did everything I possibly could to make that happen. Including loosing myself and becoming others personal saviors trying to convince peo...

 Sometime I wonder why I was given such an awful title. Widow. I wrestled not only with that title but the one of daughter, wife, friend. All these identities attached to me and yet I feel like oil and water. I don't fit any mold and yet I fit them all. A daughter does this, a friend does that. Well. A widow most certainly does not almost divorce her almost late husband. A widow does not battle with her inner voice that wanted autonomy from the person who hurt her when she also wants to be able to love and miss the man he was before he was lost to PTSD and Addiction.  A widow like me wonders if he was always lost though so if that's the case then he was never actually found, ever. To which that means she never knew him. So why did she categorize him as her best friend? A quick to judge person might judge that "best friend" comment as love bombing or Stockholm Syndrome. Someone who's heard me unload my heart of the devastations in our marriage and now I'm claim...

It has taken me decades to begin to understand boundaries. The phrase "protect your peace" has had a creeping dark shadow of fear of abandonment and also prevalent, shame for leaving. Many times on this journey of life have I felt the pulling of 'if only I had' or 'If only they had'. And I had found myself often in mental torment. With intrusive thoughts minute by minute trying to dissect every word, action, breath... To no avail. I have never been able to truly know what others are thinking. Even if honest in the moment, moments change people grow or change their minds. I know this because this is true for me. So how do we have faith and forge relationships when at the end of the day we only have ourselves? How do we put forth new content like blogs and books and reels when others have done it before? How do we find gumption and fervor in bones? How do I do things that are beyond my abilities and turn to my children and tell them to do the same? How do I act ...

I've spent much of my life reflecting. Usually in the form of either by whiplash into a moment I wasn't expecting, or in very sacred moments I start by anticipate days, weeks or months before an annual date presents itself to me. I'm here to tell you about one year ago, ten years ago, and... today. One year ago I sat broken hearted and shattered in my home. I had tried it the hard way for decades. Pulling strength I didn't have to barely make through the day. One year ago I wrote on my social media: "Do I eat chocolate or tell people it still hurts. Both. 9 years ago I married Michael. 6 years after that Micheal died. With 50,000 things in between. And I'm sure l've been judge for 50,000 of them. 2 years later I'm still searching for community and a place to feel at ease. I have not processed a lot of this. But my body is telling me I need to. So l'm sitting down. I'm pulling up a chair. And I'm offering to be seen. I am the bride in the pic...

  June 29 2020: I had to bring immense purpose to my life. To my daily schedule. Leave nothing to chance. Wake up. Yoga. Care for kids. Matcha. music. All to live. In, around, over, under, and within peace. Collectively. Leaving no time for destruction. Not suppressing sadness or anger. But channeling hope. Channeling my dreams. Driving towards release. To find me. To free my children of grown up fears. Emotions that create monsters in closets.  Emotions that lead to imagination running into the darkest woods. Not meant for innocence. Not ok for those in pain. Those whose innocence has since fled are still entitled to humanity’s grace. I beg you give me grace. It started with the Red Sea parting. I drove forward. With raging waters on both sides of me. So daunting, it felt like I was squeezing through a pinhole. A tiny speck of Earth that was destined for me. Destined for my serenity. Allowing myself to trek on towards peace.  And to my surprise. The rain came down. ...

We crown ourselves and set jewels of 'It's my right to do that!' all around. Walking around with heads held high, tiaras kept straight. But let me tell you of the danger of mixing up nice and kind.  It is nice to be authentic. It is nice to own your space. It is nice to do what you want to do because it brings you happiness. But then there it sits in the corner. Hello kind, would you like the stage for a minute? Let me tell you a story of a nice Halloween decoration. It was nice, for the owner. They enjoyed it... yada yada yada.  As the years of Halloween progressed I started with a mindset of "How fun is this for my child Ronan", to sending Ronan's dad photos because he was deployed, then finally doing Halloween together as a family in Utah with our newborn baby girl, and Pennsylvania as a family of 4, then a recently separated on the path of divorce single mom halloween in San Diego with two very small children. All of which were fairly regular albeit some s...