Lunar eclipse in Pisces

Like a vulture,
Who does not understand 

Ancient inheritance,

I have circled the hot spot

Of my own pain

All day. 

Every time I try

To get away from it

With ignorance

A blast of its heat

Takes me up on

Geothermal streams

So I can only hover

Above it from

Further away. 

Then slowly, I

Circle back down,

Drawn by the stench of infection,

So that I may rip away the

Barriers to healing. 


Reminder: you can trust people to be themselves 100% of the time.

Reminder: predators use cognitive dissonance to target their prey.

Reminder: you and he will never be on the same team.

Reminder: I can move past wanting to burst into tears when my throat clenches and know that, in due time, all this will wash up to something more acceptable.


Some will forget to mention that she is kind.


P.S. Where I am now is very nice.  This post was discovered by accident while searching for an image for a reminder tattoo.  Reminder: Where I am now is very, very nice indeed.

1 year & 7 months – Jul. 2012

Facebook gave me a gift this morning


This little sentimentality-creating feature helped me see the wound I’ve put into the story about my son and how I have loved him.  The post was made during the ten weeks in which I attempted to build a home from nothing for myself, my young boy, and my not-yet-born girl; away from their father, but near enough to give him access to their lives regularly.  Olympia, Washington was where we landed.  It was clean, charming, and all around me I could see the potential of this lovely city but I could not access hope within myself.

I have gone through the gamut of negative feelings upon numerous reflections over the experience of losing the family and life I tried to build.

I’ve made myself miserable, as though I alone was responsible for the grief I was experiencing.

When people have remarked on the strength it took to uproot my son, myself, and my damn-nearly-born child I have felt estranged.

I didn’t feel at the time that I had a choice.

I love life.
The choice seemed like one between life and a slow, terrible, death.

I have given my son, my daughter, and myself the experience and lessons of the strength we must have sometimes to remain in the light of loving to live.  And today, the often soft, social media realm has given me a remarkably helpful glimpse at myself while I was on that line – between living fully and surviving.  I loved my son.  I have loved him so fiercely since the moment I knew he was growing inside of me that I have made a bit of a chore of it.  My overly zealous desire for perfection-in-creation has taken far too much energy from my ability to fully express in this life.

In this time of a New Moon in Cancer, and the peak of summer’s liveliest expression on the Northern Hemisphere, I set an intention to cultivate the pleasures of home and the rich satisfaction to be found in slowing down my movements elsewhere.  The infinite blessings of the universe helped me today and reminded me: Love this child!  Love this child! Love myself! Love my family! Love life!

Love life, even when it doesn’t meet the expectations you set out for it!
Love life, even when your imaginations of it are grander than your abilities!
Love life, because there is no other reason for us to be here.

East of Eden

After 3 years, 6 months, and 30 minutes of effort, yesterday I lost ~180 lbs. I got divorced at last. I was sky-high in freedom yesterday.

I’m reviewing the dog-eared pages of East of Eden after finally having read the Steinbeck novel I bought at least ten years ago. I marked this in chapter 21, part 3,

Some people think it’s an insult to the glory of their sickness to get well. But the time poultice is no respecter of glories. Everyone gets well if he waits around.

About three and a half years ago I wrote this, Life’s Best Poultice.

After court, paying homage to my lesser demons (alcohol, cheeseburger, custard, nicotine), and taking a gluttony-induced walk through a local labyrinth I landed a few yards behind a well-looking couple with their child.  They were good-humored, fit, and groomed and a while after following behind them I realized that I had not felt the pain of longing for that family style.

My monkey-mind was instead sizing up her fit body and adding lines to the endless dramatic book of body-image and self-shaming to which I’ve historically been accustomed.

…There is a time for every thing.  I will wait around and continue to be healed.

13 months – Jan. 2012

The ol’ Tumblr account reveals a brave mask in January.  I don’t remember what it felt like to mother in my son’s 13th month.  Primarily I remember feeling desperately sad, heart-broken, and in denial that our marriage was over.  The grief of loving and bearing children with an unavailable man lasts.

Here’s something somewhat taboo, I went back for several complicated reasons but the reason I recall feeling the strongest was I have to go get Salamander’s sibling.  I knew in my bones that he was not meant to be an only-child.  There is very little rational thought in that knowing.  I did not intend to dupe, or “milk” the man I wished would be with me.  I did not think it would fix our relationship.  It was a direct, clear line.  Salamander is not an only child.  On top of that knowing and faith were the complex mess of my own emotions.  But that one, it was practically like a commandment.  Madrigal had to be made.  She was coming for us.

Salamander walked a few days before he turned one.  He walked into his grandpa’s arms.  I imagine the bitterness of missing your son’s first steps…   Salamander ate his first cake at his first party and had his first Christmas.

I have realized, and accepted, that raising my kids in this particular family situation will always be hard in its ways.  It’s easy for me to indulge in the dramatic suffering aspect. But for my family.  They supported us, made a Christmas for us, gathered baby materials for us, threw us a party.  They loved us, unconditionally, and I will never outgrow that blessing. Fortunately neither will these children.

12 Months – Dec. 2011

There are five posts to my 1001 Son Days tumblr account from this month.  The first one is about absurdity in life.  The second one is about being your own self, belonging to yourself as much as, or more than, to any one else.  The third is a GIF from My Friend Totoro (SUCH a beautiful and soothing film).  Then there are these two.



Our family split.  It was intensely painful.   Continue reading

The Tameless Pilgrimage of Hearts

Grief can be compared to a great many things.  I have compared it to a rock – stuck inside of the self.  The self, tumbles it time and time again. Eventually the rock is smoothed out and growing smaller with each run through the self’s cycle.  Grief can sail on a ship disguised as the life you did not live.  Yet, how can you know when you’ve bid the ship a bon voyage at last?  How many times have I thought I’d forgiven, accepted, and moved on – only to be shown that I’m wrong – when I claim I hate the grief within me?  If you have forgiven, have moved on, can you not cease to feel the pain of hate?  Continue reading

11 Months – Nov. 2011

I agreed to marry Salamander’s father and we made it happen.  11/11/11.  He later, though not much later, wanted an annulment.  I would not grant it.  At first, it was because I wasn’t ready to admit defeat.  Later, it was because I wasn’t going to pretend I didn’t make that mistake.  And finally, it was because I needed the legal protection the title granted me as we were already in divorce court.

Nevertheless, in early November, Salamander came with me as I plucked beauty from our luscious surroundings and fashioned a bouquet. marriage bouquet

Two weeks later, I blogged this:


This is the place in our lives, Salamander’s and mine, where things got very challenging as the norm, rather than the exception.  But for one or two nights, right then, I put intuitive knowing into a lock-box and enjoyed “my family.”  Salamander napped the afternoon after our marriage was legally made.  We had taken a walk in the cold, wet air.  I gave out cookies I’d baked.  We went home to flowers and chocolate covered strawberries from my loving family in the Midwest and went to bed.

10 Months Old – Oct. 2011


Is that not the most ridiculously cute little chub?  Why so sad looking Mr. Chub-a-lub?  Salamander was is VERY busy and as a scooting, traveling boy, he got into all of the things.  Some fun we enjoyed together was, splashing in water, pouring dried lentils into and out of things, patting the dogs’ haunches, and of course our daily walks.  You can’t tell here, but he has the biggest, face consuming smile which he employed often and also strategically, like in situations when he’d got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to (ie. splashing the dogs’ water bowl).  His favorite things to eat were sweet potatoes, oatmeal, and apples.

The miracle is not that I finished;