And I want all the flavors.

How is something so bad for you, so damn good ? 

And I am mostly dairy-free, gluten-free, caffeine-free

Except for some times

which is most of the times, it seems

I will spend all my money on Starbuck's and fast food drive-thrus this week- what a shame, smh

I wish that there were only choices available that were healthy for us

This free will ordeal is too complicated

I am often weak in spirit and need something, anything to spike my state of being up and up. 

Through greasy fries, tangy ranch and the unique taste of coffee that sends me to a time where I felt most alive

But this time around, I will make sure it's decaf- I don't want to stress my adrenals

With oatmilk please, dairy produces mucus

but just a little ranch with my curly fries and cheese in my taco will be O.K. 

I can't believe I used to eat $.99 Breakfast Jack's with my boyfriend at 19, consistently 

And all those times, I meandered through the drive thru at 2 in the morning after being out and about, never finding what I wanted

but those curly fries with the ranch and those tacos with the sauce and questionable meat filling

they gave me what I wanted, for only the duration of time that I spent with them

Will they haunt me in the coming hours with a bad mood and an overburdened liver ?

Perhaps, but at least I'm not binge drinking, eating mass amounts of taco bell and staying up til 5 AM anymore 

So, I suppose I am doing alright and maybe when I am 40. I'll have this free will thing down and will only make choices that are good for me. 

 And all along she knew of all these things 

Never had she spoken them to me

To keep me safe from the war going on all around me

That is love, the love that I never felt nor seen but now I know so deeply as I am beginning to know the things that she too came to know and see in this world of wars mixed with peace 

A Mother within a Mother, cycling through and through 

Never perfect but always true 

 And there are many instances where I feel overwhelmed and buried underneath all the mess of this life. I gleen for simple tasks, simple virtues, and simple adventures that require little effort yet yield a magnitude of joy and gratitude for life and living. My anxiety sometimes likes to blow things up, way up ! It blows up into a big production with everything and everyone needing a certain place and a certain way to act, myself included. I search for the best costume, think of the best lines and go out in search for the best props that will win the award for Best Motion Picture. And a script for each scene and how it will play out and what it will get me. Before you know it, I have a set that is filled with odds and ends, clothes that don't fit quite right, a chest full of written lines that I keep going back to and reading for some sort of sign. A way out perhaps is what I am looking for but instead through all this anxious planning I create a deeper hole in the messiness of it all. What I'd prefer, or at least desperately need while sifting through embittered ends is space and minimal distraction. A place to create freely, a place to love willingly and openly. A place where my interests are minute and tactful where the container is open and you can see light shining in, through and out of it. I don't want to examine the container any longer, nor do I want to change it's color or placement. Perhaps it will move on it's own in some time and change in it's own way without my meddling. I no longer want to tip it upside down and see what comes out, nor do I want to throw it against a wall and obliterate it completely. No, I want to cherish it with all of my heart, soul and mind. I want to take great care of it and treat it with integrity, sincerity and tenderness. For the container is what gives me life and I must not take it for granted or think that I could create anymore of it then I've already been given. 

Symphony of Simplicity 

Cooking

Reading

Hiking

Running

Swimming in the Ocean

Singing

Dancing

Creating and Playing Music

Boyfriend(friend)

Friends

Mothers

Fathers

Sisters

Brothers

Daughters

Teachers

Driving

Shopping

Cleaning

Writing

Kissing

Hugging

Petting

Cuddling

Holding

Typing

Listening

Talking

Nothing

Everything

Everyone

Night

Day 

Morning

Evening

Afternoon

Breakfast

Lunch

Dinner

Snack(s)

Art

God 

Hallelujah ! 

Amen ! 

Our God is Mighty, He is Great

For His Creation is One and One is All 

 The peace that is brought forthright is a saving grace beyond all measure. Unexpected yet needed and wanted in all those times of not knowing where it had been hiding. A moment of forgetfulness yet at the same time remembrance of what once was, has been and will always be just lying under the surface waiting patiently to be enveloped in. A lifting of the heaviness of our minds and rationalizing, of figuring out and categorizing. I remember being a kid and taking a bath in a brownish bathtub with Pocahontas in the water with me. I admired her body markings, her long black hair, and dark skin in my little 5 year old mind. We moved into another house and I remember taking baths in a pink bathtub with the paint chipping all around above me. I would turn the shapes into things that resembled something I know just as we do with clouds in the sky. I remember washing my hair and then swishing it around in the water to rinse while discovering how it felt. Silky smooth and weightless. The other night, Winslow got to feel that exact same feeling. Finally, she has begun to trust and allow herself to try something new. We moved from rinsing her hair with a cup to now having her lie down in the bath while I hold her head and run my fingers through her hair to rinse. I told her, "Your hair is silky smooth like pink ribbons" Her face lit up as she felt her hair swish all around her. She asks for me to take a picture and I do. She asks to see and says, "Wow, my hair is like silk ! My face is cute." In those moments, time did not matter. We were in time and we were living. I wasn't thinking about living, I wasn't wondering about living, I wasn't tired of living or desperate to live, we were just alive. Later, she gets dressed and starts to brush her own hair and says to me, "Mommy, my hair is as soft as a feather. Here, brush it and see." my heart then bursts with gratitude, of awe and reverence as I brush straight through her hair. Because, for so many nights before this, taking baths and brushing hair has always turned into pain and fear somehow. Whether it be from her fear of soap getting her eyes or the tangles in her hair to cry out in pain. This, that night, those moments, were sacred. And to think that all we needed was to start using bigger blobs of conditioner ! A game changer, life-saver spark of inspiration was all I needed and i will continue to have a mind opened wide enough to hear and partake with. 

The glow of a full Moon on the glass jar atop the patio brick wall

All of us wearing masks, personalized, free or given to 

A deep hurt inside witnessing your young sister lie in her bed day after day watching T.V.

The deepening of a friendship where we begin opening drawers, using the microwave and feeding each other inside both of our own homes.

The deepening of a relationship that uncovers new layers and colors with each union and shared thought

Being outside at just the right time to say Hi to your upstairs neighbor Toni whose voice is unlike any other