My tongue is in my hand…

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this writer is now writing at: the unsteady

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Posted on: October 31, 2011


Division of labor

Being a child



I go back and forth about blogging. About what to blog, about how I feel about blogging it…

I don’t know how I feel about much lately. It is too busy. I am trying. Those same familiar feelings and fears keep toying with me. I am afraid I am only “playing’ okay, and I am not. At all.


I fear I’m not using my grace well. Perhaps it is broken that I need. Always. Perhaps that’s precisely where I should be. But I’m not even there.

I’m in a maze, a hamster wheel.


I want more. Same old story. I expect more. I feel more is expected. I want to meet it, to rise and meet it – all that is before me. But how? Where do I carve this all out? There is so much. Tangible and intangible.

I want to know.

I wait.

Perhaps, I sleep.

It is necessary. But is it too much? Too little? Why do I only have questions? so, so many questions.

Forgive me. I am perhaps a bigger mess than I’ve been leading one to be.

It is a single act of your kindness that undid me that week. What would it be like if I were always around such kindness? Would it heal me? Would it fill in the cracks? Would it pump confidence into me? Would I begin to believe good things again? Would I begin to believe I was worth the kindness? Would I finally be the person I really am because I wouldn’t have to be afraid?

I could never answer those questions for myself. The whole idea is terrifying. The whole idea is overwhelming.

And that makes me angry. It makes me feel like an animal. Like somewhere along the way, some of my humanity has been lost or destroyed, and that’s not okay.

But it is too late.


is it?


(it’s never too late)

I just want everything to be okay. Like really okay. Like smooth. Like work out and not fall apart and then work out. I’m tired of things falling apart. I’m tired of worrying. I want things to go in my favor, to be pretty, to be miraculous. I want to stop having to keep things together, because they will just be together. I want to believe that is what is happening, that everything is moving forward for me now, that these tests and trials are behind me and that blue skies are ahead of me. I don’t want fall out. Can I have some good without some fallout? My faith is tricky right now, my mind is unclear. I don’t know what to pray or think or feel or do. I don’t feel like anything I do is right or good enough or…I want some clarity without some heartbreak. Can that happen? Please? Just some showers of blessings please? I will do good with them, I swear. I will shower them on others. Please, just let me be in the sunshine for a while.

Posted on: May 27, 2011

I’m afraid I’m going to run out of wine

I’m afraid you never read the things I write

All the things that press on me, that press upon me, press into this: I want to be able to easily sum up for you what it was to grow up how I grew up, all it did to me, all it meant. I want to smoothly and fully explain, let you see why I made certain decisions I made, all the clockwork behind the scenes, why I did or didn’t do certain things, why I am where I am, I want to show that I know I am not where I should be, but I have a good defense for how I ended up here.

But there are always far too many words. As if I feel I bear this burden of proof and I have to pull out all the evidence of my life. It never comes out right, I can never get the whole picture into one clean scene.

So no one knows what I want them to know, what I need them to see. About who I am and who I seem. About where I was going and where I ended up. About what I learned. About why it’s so hard to move from where I am.

I just feel ashamed, I guess. I recognize my inauthenticity. I know myself. I know all these things that I can’t tell because I just can’t figure out how.

I know it would change everything if I were really who I was. I have no idea if that would be good. But I think I would feel free.