Thursday, May 24, 2018

heed the car wash, grasshopper 🌀

May 24. 2018

The car wash story has been on my tell-list from the beginning of the year.

Relax... Let the conveyor ease you through the wash 

That day, I followed the directions. Car in neutral, hands OFF the wheel.

It was thirty-seconds of ease. 

I've been fretting way too much about getting back here after being gone since January? I'm like my students who miss a few classes and never come back because they feel too weird or lost or embarrassed. Where have you been, I ask when (+ if) they return. Like when a friend says, catch me up on everything. How? I'll begin here:

Winter took it out of me, us. can I get an amen?

😳 We were in the company of thousands of other people. 

One storm (Toby?)left us eight days without heat, water, electricity. My mantra was, We have no power. I'm out of power - not a great mantra. That week was crashing trees, stoking the fire, a funky motel, sleeping at a friend's house, wandering through our dark cold house with camping lights.

Yup, this winter took it out of us.

Except for Chewy. 

Looking back it was a very tough labor with lots of cursing and moaning but today it's hard to remember how bad it was because the baby finally arrived.

I'm a little like this poem by Hafiz, like whoa what happened?
A Strange Feather

The craziness,
All the empty plots,
All the ghosts and fears,

All the grudges and sorrows have

I must have inhaled
    A strange

That Finally




I suck at letting the conveyor belt of life ease me through. Some days I am so white knuckling the steering wheel like I got you, mother f*cker. A serene image, yes?

Heed the car wash, grasshopper.

Relax... Let the conveyor ease you through the wash 

So right now, lift your hands off of whatever and float them up in the air.

Palms open.

xo b

Wednesday, January 10, 2018

I Only Know This


Here's a short list I jotted one night before bed. It was - 2 when I wrote it:

The cashiers
Googling winter depression (see face below)
Rabbi Kushner's quote
Moving the body
Doing one kind thing
My button is bigger than your button? We're so fucked.
Why can't the dog wipe his feet?
The car wash message

Every January I'm surprised by feelings of crazy and crowded.

Then I remember. (Or a family member reminds me) Oh yea, I'm like this every winter.  It's minus 2. The windows are closed. Dark at 5:00 pm. All I want to do is nap and read. Eat Ritz crackers with peanut butter. Make lists. Drink tea. Daydream about the hundreds of bulbs I planted in December. I guess this part could go under Chapter 2: Googling Winter Depression. Stay tuned. 

I'm not sure why, when in stuck-land, we forsake the things that bring us the most joy but the good news is, we return. I love this space. I love doing the podcast. Keep an ear out for a new one @ ( It's +39 F out today. I'm ready to break out my flip flops.

Always, alway, we begin again. 🌀

Chapter 1: The Cashiers

Marie at Price Chopper is seventy years old.  I only know this because she told me.

She said, I love being old. (I asked her to repeat that a couple of times for me)
She said, I'm seventy years old. I don't care what people think of me.
She said, I love my life.
She said, I love my husband.
She said, I have one glass of red wine at dinner - that's all, one glass.

Margaret at Target is sixty years old.
I only know this because she told me.

She said, When I turned sixty, I started watching tv.
She said, And drinking.
She said, I used to read, do crafts, always cleaning.
She said, I'm more relaxed now.
She said, My drive is an hour, that's not great.
She said, But I say, Okay God, let's do this.
She said, I drive with God.


Peace and love to you and yours


xo b