change your attitude, get some gratitude!

I am sitting in a beautiful house in Santa Fe, with warm feet, chocolate mint tea (my new favorite), and a happy heart. I am here with my sweet canine companion and my beautiful friend Annie. We are on a one week ramble in Northern New Mexico, a vacation of sorts from our current vacation of a life. Honestly, I felt a bit hesitant to leave the cabin and all its comforts... wood burning stove, homemade meals, no people or shops, stepping outside into the mountains, warm comfy bed... but I find myself in this beautiful home, where I get to stay for free, in one of the most expensive towns in New Mexico, and I feel so incredibly grateful to be exactly where I am.

At this point in my life, I am trading a lot of the luxuries of life for the luxury of freedom - to own my days; to live simply but deliberately, taking time to be still, to take care of my body, and to do all of the mundane but necessary tasks of living, which don't feel nearly so stressful when you actually have the time to do them. Rather than working for money to pay for food and health care, I am spending my time growing and cooking my own food and taking care of my health - a fairly straightforward exchange, and a transition I have found surprisingly easy. And somehow I find myself waking up everyday full of gratitude for where I am in my life and all the gifts I have that allow me to be here... to spend my days learning to cook and knit and grow into myself, and to take a much needed break from the frenzied pace of life, after 22 years of working hard. And for my amazing friends and family whose support, guidance, love and friendship allow me to be where I am right now.

I have spent the past 6 months resisting this period of rejuvenation, unable to just be still. I moved to a big city, got a job I didn't want, and went out and partied every night, just to end up right back where I started. Sometimes, right back where you started from is right where you need to be. And today I am trying to listen, rather than running around deaf to my own inner voice, and I gratefully accept where I find myself at this very moment.

Desert Hibernation

"I understood that in disconnecting from pain, I had also removed myself from my deepest knowledge. In running toward the shelter of men's arms, I had fled the greater haven. And in my frantic busyness, had outrun the heartbeat of the earth." - Mary Sojourner



So scratch all that stuff about living in Denver...(ahem).

I could get into all the reasons why Denver wasn't the right place to be, or the incredible getaway story in which I almost signed a lease for an apartment across the street from a Whole Foods and then instead made the decision to leave, shoved all of my possessions, my Mom, and my dog into my little car and drove straight home through the night, all of which took place in under 24 hours .... buuuut it doesn't really matter in the end. Fact is, I thought Denver was where I was supposed to be, and, turns out, it wasn't. The fact that the 75 degree weather suddenly shifted to an obscene 19 degrees and snowing the week after I left makes me feel validated enough in my decision. I'm a desert girl, at least until further notice.



Now, I find myself in my wonderful friend Annie's cabin in a canyon in Radium Springs. The floors and windows are poorly insulated so it tends to be about 10-15 degrees colder inside than outside, but just about everything else about it is perfect. It's autumn in Southern New Mexico, which lasts for about a month if you're lucky, and the leaves from the mulberries are growing yellow and crisp, whirling past the big windows of the cabin on the wild wind. I spend most of my days alone, reading books, playing guitar, taking long walks in the mountains, baking, making attempts at learning to knit or sew. And somehow, despite the fact I find myself depressed, drowning in emotion, and succumbing to bouts of sobbing on-and-off most days, I feel content...for the most part...which I haven't felt in a long time.


Winter always tends to be my "deep" time... I usually go into some sort of withdrawn personal crisis for a few months, feeling and crying and working through the ugliness of life until the point of release. I'm working through a lot of shit right now. My relationship of a year is painfully and inconclusively winding down, the first boy I ever loved is dead, I don't know what to do with my life, I'm broke but I feel too frozen with anxiety to get a job that requires any responsibility, I have no energy for social interactions, or even solitary interactions. But inch by inch I know it will be okay. I'm just getting my blankets and hot drinks ready to go into hibernation for the winter...

..guess I'll see you in the Spring!

Living 80210

I am sitting in my bed in my little room in Denver, with my one carload-full of possessions, myself, and my dog. Just me, out in the world. Starting my new life, as a big city girl. And even though to some extent I am just playing make-believe (I have a whole house full of furniture and all kinds of other crap, and tons of other grown up responsibilities and ties to Las Cruces), it feels good to finally be cutting some of the ties that have bound me to Las Cruces for so long.

Some days have been really hard and I have felt really lonely, but that's what I came here for. To really live the experience of being on my own in the world and prove to myself that I can make it without any friends or family or special favors to back me up. I like the fact that I have no close connections in Denver; it can truly just be me, and no one else, no expectations or influence or predetermined direction - I have to decide on my own direction and make it happen myself.

I'm not the kind of person who can work my way across. I have to start on both sides and work my way to the middle.

Maybe it all sounds silly, but as someone who has lived in her hometown her entire life, surrounded by family and all the people I went to school with since I was 5, this is kind of a big deal for me. And depending on the hour, sometimes I am terrified out of my mind and I just want to stay in bed all day and hide under the covers because the world, and this city, and all my options for what I am going to do with my life on this particular day, are hugely overwhelming and I feel like I might disappear into the cosmos if I even make an attempt. But up to this point most of the time I just sit in my room and think a lot, and feel all the things I am feeling, and tell myself that it is okay to feel them, and that everything is going to be alright...and there is some definite empowerment in that.

And then sometimes I play my guitar, or read a book, or watch Daria or Rachel Maddow online, or knit, or write, and that space for creativity is what I was really seeking all along I think. And something else that I haven't discovered yet. And sometimes I walk down to Pearl Street and get an ice cream, or ride my bike down to Broadway to catch a movie at the Mayan theater and go thrifting at the gigantic badass goodwill, or take the light rail down to Union Station and see where I could catch an Amtrak to if I felt like it... and most of the time I just bask in the fact that I am living in a big city, where I am one out of over two-million people trying to figure everything out. And somehow that seems less lonely to me now than living in Las Cruces did just a few days ago.

Sing Olympia

This night changed my life.

it's all fear
if you're loud and i'm quiet
and we're both afraid
of the world and ourselves
it's just the same note,
but the melody is different.

the first boy i ever loved died on june 9,
in the year that i became an adult.
even though i already bought a house,
and made lots of money,
and traveled the world,
and had sex,
and owned a pet,
and the title to my car,
and a money market savings account.

it happened in olympia, washington
(where apparently everything happens)
and i sang loud, and with a sore throat, and i was scared,
but i wanted to,
and i did it anyway.

paul says,
i'm not uptight...
i'm just a little snug.

and i say,
well i guess that's ok.

Colorado changes you.

I am moving to Colorado.
Pennsylvania (st), snuggled between
Iowa and Mexico
... Denvah!

To brave the snow,
...........and learn how to sing in harmony.

I will not snowboard.
.........................You can't make me.

but I miiiiiight be a different person
......when I come home.

(I already am.)

Assuming always.

Oh, Vince,
my first love.



I never imagined I would go through this life without you.
I always assumed somehow you'd always be
in the periphery of my journey,
that our paths would always weave.

I'm sorry for not taking better care of you.

In the doorway

It seems that we have been playing this same game for a long time now. I have one foot out the door and the other is still hanging on inside. I still want to be a part of that life. It makes me feel special. I feel cool to be your sweetie, to know you, to stay up late and to take long naps and to waste time and to fuck. Part of me still wants to hold on, and part of me is way, way ready to let go.

I'm tired of only half living.

I want to grow, like a sunflower.

I am playing guitar. I am singing. I'm trying. Every day it gets a little bit easier.

My roof leaks, I still need to fix it. The rainy season is coming. Wishing for sunny days and a burst of motivation.

I'm stuck in my head all day long. Think I may leave town for awhile so I stop feeling guilty for not returning people's phone calls. I haven't been able to sleep well for about 3 weeks. It's probably from eating so much chocolate and drinking so much wine all night before I go to bed.

Besides that, what am I learning about being graduated, out in the real world? Be straightforward, it's easiest in the long run. Don't eat weird foods all day long or you will feel like shit tomorrow. Thinking about health insurance is stressful. You have to drink more water if you are going to drink wine and coffee all day/night. Growing up is hard.