Swimming in the Deep End

What will 2017 hold for me? Relationships Letting go of relationships that are not meant for me and nurturing relationships that feed my soul. For me the greatest joy in life is connecting with amazing people, so I plan to do more of that with more people.  My marriage has ended and will also come to a legal end shortly. I will let it go with gratitude for the lessons learned and the beautiful times that were shared. I am richly blessed with the most incredibly loving and supportive family one could hope for. I plan to spend more time with them and cherish every minute of it including celebrating my son's marriage in June. I am also excited about spending more time with my birth mother's family and getting to know some of my cousins and aunts and uncles better. Travel Winter - I'm starting the year off with a bang by traveling with friends to the women's march in Washington DC in January. We are all crashing in a basement airbnb on the cheap and shari

Grief sits like a rock in my heart This rock is made of molten lava, it certainly feels that way This red hot lava rock is burning burning burning The tears fall down my cheeks I imagine the lava rock searing a hole straight through my heart Then out of my chest, plopping out and landing on my keyboard Grief, they say, is only lessened with time I am staring down the long dark road ahead Squaring my shoulders and taking steps Letting myself feel all of it I walk down this road leaving a trail of red hot rocks behind

These are dark and scary times we are entering. Our country has elected a racist bigot who has no respect for women and who seems willing to take way the rights of LGBTQ folks. When I first heard the news I was shocked, I made my way home and sobbed, plotting my move to Canada. The next day was kind of a haze, but amid the haze I realized I would not abandon my home and community out of fear. Yesterday I went for a body/energy treatment, which was amazing. If you are in the Portland area Laura is offering this on a donation basis during the month of November as a way to help people during this stressful time. Check it out here . I went in feeling the weight of the world on my body, not just what has been going on politically but the turmoil that has been going on in my personal life as well. I cannot tell you how healing this was for me to take this time for self care. I walked out of there feeling so much better emotionally. I felt myself surrounded by a pink bubble shield of prot

You know those stories about people just chucking everything and taking off for the wildnerness, or a year of world travel, or a hike up the Pacific Crest or Appalachian trail? I crave the ability to take a real journey of that nature.  I have great envy for those folks who are financially capable of doing such things. Maybe they don't have to worry about a mortgage and student loan payments. Even though I am incapable of physically leaving on a grand adventure of self discovery, I find myself in the wilderness,  even as I sit in my beige cubicle in insurance land. Somewhere along the way I lost me. Sometime in the last couple of years I forgot who I am. I became a smaller version of myself until now when I look in the mirror I  barely recognize the person staring back.   I had been thinking I needed help finding my way back to who I am, but the realization struck me this weekend. Why should I limit myself to finding my way back to who I once was? Why not just strip off ev

I sat in the car listening to Roxy Music, the sweet buttery sound of Brian Ferry's voice seemed melancholy like my mood. I sat watching the rain hit the glass through the tears streaming out of my eyes. The sobs kept coming and for once I didn't fight it. I gave myself over, gave myself permission to feel all of it. Eventually I pulled myself together, went in to the doctor's office, paid my copay, and was ushered in to the exam room. The doctor, not my usual guy, was kind, funny, a little flirty...I tend to bring that out in men. He noted my blood pressure was elevated and asked if that was normal. I pointed out that I was there with a migraine and that pain raises blood pressure. He nodded and then I blurted out, "Honestly I think my blood pressure is elevated because of Donald Trump." He stopped and said, "You know I've heard that quite a bit lately." I then went on to tell him I needed a refill of my Ativan while I was there because honestly

Waiting has always been a hard thing for me.   The unknown is unsettling. This is strange coming from me maybe given that I am such an adventure junkie and love to go to unknown places and experience things I’ve never before experienced. But the waiting ….the uncertainty, that eats at me. I have been thinking a lot about attachment lately and how, according to Buddhism, it leads to suffering. Being attached to a certain outcome, attached to having something or not having something….it leads to expectations and that leads to suffering. I am working really hard to stay in the present moment, to focus on this second right now and savor it while it is here. So often we let moments pass us by without paying attention.   Today I am recommitting to paying attention, to living in the now. Now, today I am good. I am happy, I am comfortable in my own skin. Tomorrow will come and I will take it as it comes.

Goodbye my mother the mother I never really knew. Goodbye to the woman housed me in your body for nine full months. Goodbye to the 16 year old girl who held me once and then handed me over to the nuns with a hope I would have a better life than you could provide. I want you to know that I have had a beautiful life. My childhood was filled with love, two doting parents, a wondrous brother who was my very first friend. Today we scattered your ashes. Today I waded out into the Columbia River at Astoria where you wanted to be scattered at the sunrise with the outgoing tide. I waded out and spread your remains with tears flowing down my face, my heart filled with regret. I walked back to shore and your brother, who was more father to you than brother, put his arm around me and reminded me that I still have blood family left. We stood there and watched your remains float out, your brother and sister telling stories about you, so I could know you a little better now t

I passed by him on the way back from the bathroom, hands in pockets, eyes cast to the ground, waiting on the elevator so he could go down and smoke, so he could go fill his lungs with poison, the poison that killed my birth mother.   I wanted to yell, “Wake up! Don’t invite death to come early. ” I didn’t. I went back to my desk and my favorite lyric popped into my head “And it's hard to want to stay awake. When everyone you meet, they all seem to be asleep.”   I keenly feel my own mortality. Every day I try my best to be present, find adventure, and experience all I can. I sometimes walk past a group of people and listen as they talk about all of the shows they watched on the television the night before and it’s not just one night, it’s every night. They get up, they go to work, they go home, they plug into the tv, they go to sleep, they repeat. On the weekends, they may go to a movie, have sex with their spouse, or go to the mall, but they rarely leave their comfort z

Early Saturday, driving up I-5 on a misty cool Pacific Northwest Morning singing at the top of my lungs to Peter Gabriel, thinking about apartheid, I glanced down at my gas gauge and saw that I had almost a full tank, almost a full tank in a Prius. I was struck with a strong impulse to just keep driving.  I tried to push the thought out of my head and kept singing, thinking of Steve Biko, his tragic death at age 31, a promising life cut short because of hate. I wondered if he knew he would die so young if he would have made different choices, gone on more adventures, had more or less lovers, chosen a different path. With tears streaming down my face, I cried for Stephen, I cried for my birth mother, recently deceased at age 60, another life ending far too early.  I needed something to cry about, a way to release the storm in my heart. I pulled over at a rest stop to walk it off; searching my purse to find that my passport was still in there, I took mental inventory of the clothes I ha

I am adopted. I've always known. I don't remember my parents ever telling me, it was just something that was always talked about....how my family came to be. They adopted my brother, then three years later Wendy was adopted. She tragically died of SIDS and then they adopted me. I grew up being told that my birth mother was very young and loved me so much that she wanted me to have a better life. I grew up knowing that her giving me up was an act of love and sacrifice and that I was in the family that I was meant to be a part of.  I never felt like this wasn't my real family. It always offended me when people would imply our family was not real because we did not share DNA. Growing up I'd sometimes meet women who I really clicked with who were around what I thought her age was and sometimes I'd fantasize they were my birth mother. I was always curious but also reluctant to search for her. I carried papers around from the adoption agency for 10 years that I coul