I am beyond tired in regards to trying to figure out every little thing about my life. I am done with that. Really ! I have spent so many hours thinking about thoughts that have no other purpose other than to know. Something concrete and something that will last through time. But none of it does except for the feeling. The feeling of One. I try to control change, I try to stand my ground and rationalize my situation and make sure that I am in line with what I think to know is right. But none of it ever proves to be true especially when I begin to ignore my heart's callings. My heart's screaming and shouting at me. I muffle it down with intellect and more information. I logically explain away what it's feeling and I close it shut for good because it makes everything too messy and it is hard to accept it's never-ending truths. I want to hear those truths. I want to feel them and let them pump freely to the outward and extending branches of my life. I want to breath in real life. Not read life or preconceived life. I want to grasp the beat of it all. That is hard to do when my mind likes to override and over analyze every single part of my existence until it is a big pile of broken glass and there is no reflection to be seen, just bits and pieces of what used to be. 

Today was a pleasant day. Winslow was in a good mood most of the day. I spent the majority of my morning distracted thinking about how the weekend went with Greg. All that was said, all that was done. I researched information about 'difficult' temperaments in children and realized that yes, Winslow has a difficult temperament indeed. Not as intense as some but nevertheless she falls within the 10-15% of those born with the same temperament. I found a list of the best 8 books on children with this temperament. I was feeling grateful for Greg's presence in my life because he has opened my eyes to the different cycles that I have fallen into that have proven to be ineffective in terms of preventing power struggles and melt-downs with Winslow. I felt some more acceptance with Winslow and realized that she is how she was born and I have to do my best to nurture and direct her in the way she needs to be raised. It has taken me awhile to accept it but today was a turning point because I also realized that I have been grieving the loss and also the non-existence of the child that I was expecting to have. I cried while listening to the audio book, "Setting Limits for Your Strong-Willed Child." I thought that perhaps Greg hadn't really realized the reality of my situation and of Winslow's temperament and the fact that this will be a life-long struggle with her. He might think that she will just grow out of these difficult behaviors but I know that they will persist and if I am just now coming to acceptance to this, how long will it take for him and what if he doesn't? It is easy for him to be able to say goodbye. She isn't his. I envy that. I want his simple life. I envy what he's able to do which is whatever he wants to do during the week. He doesn't have to carry this burden and I don't want to either but I don't have a choice. I have to learn to live this way. I am hoping acceptance is the first step towards some type of peace within all of this. I have to stop idolizing the perfect life that will lead me to everlasting peace. It isn't real anyways nor could it ever compare to what has already been given to me. We went and checked out a different school, it felt comfortable and nice. The other school that we visited was a Christian preschool and while it look wonderful, the feeling was a little off. I felt unsure about the husband who led the bible study each hour every morning. He looked at Winslow oddly and I didn't like it. Nor, did I like the judgmental remarks the woman made about 'other' kids who haven't been taught the 'Word'. I have to start paying attention to my doubts and the things that I think twice about. They are valid and are telling me something that I may be blind to. I didn't feel any doubts walking away from the 'Busy Bees' preschool, all I could think of was where are my checks so I can pay for the registration fee ? I want to stand firm in my intuition and walk in faith in that regards. I have so much experience living this way, I don't know why I ever let the World convince me otherwise. 

I cleaned the house and it was clean, no toys on the floor or the table. I vacuumed all the crumbs and miscellaneous pieces of paper and cut toys that Winslow has trailed along the floor as the week has passed. Just the other night, I sat here at this same table feeling grateful for our mess that piled onto the table but the feeling has since passed and now I want everything to be neat and clutter-free. Why? Maybe because I have too many thoughts and if I am not surrounded by too many things then perhaps my mind can not be cluttered with too many thoughts. I can feel my blood vessels tighten as I see Winslow strewing her toys everywhere again and create little homes and beds out of stacks of playing cards and scraps of cloth for blankets. I think for a moment, would I trade a clean home made of silence and an average mess for what I have now which is a constant ever-evolving mess with ups and downs of emotions, one moment anger, the other immense pain from hitting herself on the cupboard door. I think yes, I would like to live in that place of silence. With the ability to be immersed in my mind and embark on whatever I wanted to do at the moment but I don't have that anymore. So, after that thought, I erased the longing out of my heart. Instead I longed for acceptance and peace with my circumstance. I heard once that peace isn't the feeling of anything absent but more so the presence of something. I want to know that something and rest in that place. I want my eyes to be open to the life that has been given to me. Appreciate and cherish the moments of now with my daughter. She isn't perfect in any way but she is perfect in her blemishes, mishaps, and growing pains. She isn't what I wanted in any way nor am I the Mother that I want to be on most days. I often idolize ideas of perfection and what could or would bring about the best circumstance. I get lost in these idols that keep me chasing after them, relentlessly pulling forward and covering up the mistakes I've made. Full of shame and guilt for feeling the wrong thing or making the wrong move. Where is the love in that ? Where is G-d in that ? Nowhere, really. I am abandoned in those moments. Blind in the wilderness. But with that, I return time and time again to His place. His home that He has made for me. I must look beyond my idols of idealized personas and ways of being. I must see past my carnally imperfect mishaps and humble myself in the awe of G-d and his wondrous Creation. Carry me, I ask of You. Bring me forth in the palm of Your hand so that I may continually receive the abundance that is constantly flowing all around me. This is only possible with You. Carry me and keep my eyes open and heart softened to the degrees of living momentously graceful. 

My baby girl fell asleep on her own tonight. I went to take a shower while she finished eating cereal for dinner and came out to her asleep in her own bed. No need for a rub on the back, a kiss goodnight, a hug, a book, piano lullabies or even blankets tucked in to sleep tight. She even got her own glass from the cupboard and poured herself some water. A rare moment I will cherish yet question. The question must cease to be all that keeps consuming me. I realized tonight while in the shower how many moments I have spent thinking about pimples on my face, or my physical appearance in general. How many moments I have spent staring at myself in the mirror, picking at these pimples until they bleed. Worrying incessantly. How many of those moments I'd like to trade to instead be present with someone or something beyond vanity. I better shape up, really. Get a good grip on what's good rather than be down in the dark, searching for the way out. I better be real good and hip to what's around me because I'll lose it all if I keep up this worrying. I have to let it go. This burden of shadows following me. I have to set them free with something that reaches beyond me. Far beyond my pimple picking and twisted thinking. Perhaps the possibilities could be something other than dreadful and loathing but when that has been all you've come to know, the climb out is steep and I slip. I can't slip anymore though. I decided. This life is too wondrous to slip and cry out in fear each time I reach a new height. I have to keep climbing, to the peak, the top of the mountain. There is more to be seen than false truths and abandoned feelings. There is life brimming with good, I just have to believe. 

Those that I love

Libraries

the homeless

the displaced 

the abandoned and forgotten

cold water in a glass with lemon that hits the back of my mouth

children's tiny voices asking questions and also, exclamations 

the high pitch sound of a cry that comes from deep within the chest because someone took your ball

the clutter of toys, books, and paper that builds effortlessly onto the table that is made for dining

everything that I have pushed away yet continues to remain despite all the changes that were made

the smell of brown paper lunch bags and how closely they relate to trees and golden grass growing in the Summer heat

And if G-d were in my mind, He'd tell me do it right or not at all

or He'd tell me to swing it this way or that or some other way flat- either way would be fine, He wouldn't mind at all

As long as I trusted in the goodness of it- all

how can I transcend this barrier that sometimes keeps me from feeling the breeze when it flows past my lover's smile to me

the same barrier that makes me question his love for me

forever, effortlessly

I ask daily

I sometimes become trapped in fear, holding onto past nightmares that were once a reality but now just a toiled memory 

my body holds these things, tightly- mostly in my hips and jaw 

I loosen from them each day a little more; a choice to surrender to the love He shows before me. 

A wondrous creation that I could never re-enact but one that I could only participate in and perhaps lend a hand in- a joint communion 

I loosen with each laugh, 

each act of service- outside of me 

I cannot forget these things that have shaped me, like how a river shapes it's stones that rest beside and beneath 

regardless, the water keeps -rushing- pulling through the forest rapidly with momentous efficacy

while the Earth's stones take on their shape, usually in the form of a perfect seat to cool off in 

All these things, they are all still with me and they will always be; the toiled memories

just as the water will keep rushing while the rocks are smoothed to sand 

despite these materials that lay before me and in me, I must remember that there is something more hiding beneath 

There is more to the stone, just as there is more to me than my flesh and bone 

A force that keeps my heart beating and my eyes blinking, effortlessly 

involuntarily keeping me living beyond what I have seen and more importantly beyond what I have been thinking. 
I am grateful for Him

the King of Creation 

or however you'd like to address that which is unknown yet already known beyond understanding

He told me, don't be like the wilder-beast and just lie in front of the lion like I've been
You are the prize and there is no fun without a little game and chase
He said, there is a difference between agreeing and choosing when finding yourself a mate
& maybe it was just the mushrooms that let you love me like you did
Just maybe it was the gin that made us feel as if there was no separation
No me & you; just us. No me vs. you; just us.
Come down from the World you've created in your head
There is no life in what is already dead
& there is no reality in fantasies
See me for where I am and not just what you need
Temporary relief has always been too shallow for me
Life could never be casual; we've all been in the depths- & just how deep are you willing to dive?
& maybe it was just the mushrooms that let you love me like you did
Just maybe it was the gin that made us feel as if there was no end
You could write a tune but it don't matter none if there is still evil in your heart
with a serpent's tongue, hissing with each breath
So, how about for once we live in our good nature
hold each other close for the better
because if you're bitter,
you haven't forgiven and all that does is breed hatred
& it don't matter a penny to be in two different places
We've both got hearts that beat
We've both got ears to hear
and mouths to speak
So, maybe it was just the mushrooms that let you love me like you did
Just maybe it was the gin that made us feel as if there was no separation
No me & you; just us. No me vs. you; just us.

The next time a man comes up to me while I am enjoying my own space,
I will protect myself to the 'T'
When he asks what my name is; he will hardly hear me mutter the words, "Bree" as I swindle in my chair the other way.
Because how many times can a heart break before it shatters into nothing?
He'll ask me where I am from and I will glance to him, still muttering, "Around"
He won't even get to see my teeth or the lines in my face from smiles in the past that I've given so freely
I surely won't tell him I can literally feel the rate at which is heart is pulsing with his nervousness emanating
No, I'll sit and keep my place because flirting is a dangerous place
Where one has feelings; which is apparently a disgrace these days
He'll ask me what I do and I'll tell him, "This" as I look forward and listen to the music in front of me
I will protect myself to the 'T'
I will give none of me
Because how many times can a heart break before it shatters into nothing?
I will keep my mouth shut and our eyes may never even meet

Because if it were the rather; I'd instantly be attracted to you like a magnet
With weeks in,
I'd whole-heartedly, perhaps even vainly believe you had genuinely liked me as my person
& not just liked the attention you had received
Although, I could give you all the reasons why it was me who ruined everything
It recently has occurred to me that it isn't the baby's fault if the mama can't love her unconditionally

He'll ask me if he can have my number and I will calmly decline, explaining, "No, my phone is already full of men who have unknowingly broke this heart before."
I'll stand, glance his way politely and walk out the back door
Because how many times can a heart break before it shatters into nothing?

Been away too long, searching in the Sea
He calls, tells me to come back to Me
but still, I can't see
wrapped up in thoughts about the times I've been doing all the wrong things
worried about where this life is going
frettin' about where I want to be
crying with grief over everything that is done and gone with
will it ever come back to Me; please don't leave
He calls, tells me to come back to Me
He calls, tells me to come back to Me
Then through my salted wet dreams; I feel Me
I breathe in Me
I see Me
I am Me
Who else but Me can feel these things
Who else but Me can see these things
No one, but Me
same as it ever was
same as it ever was

Spring cleaning is rough. It is tiring and exciting all at the same time. What will stay, what will go ? I had hoped you would stay but maybe you are flying out the window on your high horse. Recycle through it all. Give it away. I moved all the stuff out from under my bed and now it is placed neatly on a wood rolling cart that I bought from that cute boy today at the thrift store. His voice is soft and his sentences are slow and drawn out. Sometimes we make eye contact and his eyes are an emerald green. He looked well rested today, more so than last time.

The piano that is moving in will wipe my tears clean from all this pain I have been carrying with me. Each Act; each breath bringing me closer to my death. FREEDOM comes with a price and it sure as hell ain't coming that easy these days. I have been dreaming all day; all damn day. Giddy with excitement; giddy with vanity and hidden dread. Laughing nonchalantly but secretly crying. I don't care anymore if you love me or not. I will say what I will. I will do what I will. I will shatter the mirror to pieces that you saw yourself in me with. I am ready to give it all up. Every last detail that I have brought into my life to make you love me. But, it is a part of me. All of it; so how can I regret any of it?

There are some boys out there that tell me they love me. They tell me how beautiful I am. How cute and what a sweetheart I am. But you know what, I am tired of hearing all of that. Your words are cheap. I hate that word; sweetheart. It's been haunting me since Jeremy in 5th grade would write me letters and he'd always tell me that in those love letters. It was all fluff and no fulfillment. They ask me out, send me music videos. I might have time to listen to those. But, I've already got a list of videos that I need to put in a playlist to replay for myself. Why not tell me something I have never heard before? Tell me something that's been in your mind for the last three days. Call me because you were just thinking of me. Surprise me with a camping trip. Take my hand and lead me somewhere I have never been. Come home and tell me a story I ain't never heard. Come home and grab me by the face and give me a big, wet kiss and let the day we had melt into yesterday. Lately, I have been thinking that I have a choice of who I want to be with. For so long, I thought that I should just go with whoever is giving me the attention. But, I am being choosy these days. So, I started telling all these boys that I am not interested and that I met someone and I like him. I actually met him in my dreams before I even met him in person. And I want to know him everyday & not just on Sunday's when the giving is good.

This happens every time I am feeling in love with life. There is always a boy, too.

Spring Cleaning

Convey
Exasperate
& maybe you do have something to say but it is scary to say in fear that it might hurt; with words. Because, they carry what needs to be put on solid ground and followed through with. Continuing the cycle and regeneration of your life's phases.

I am selling my truck that I just bought. The one I really wished for. I jumped up and down in my seat the first time I drove it. But now, the feeling has faded and I just now know that it isn't what I needed after all. So, I will swallow my pride and pass on keeping an image held tight. Perhaps in turn I will yield a greater return. A return that has been received time and time again. Experiences that evoke the feeling of love. I will remember the love that is possible when you let go of all of your shit. I am selling my truck so that I can start riding in airplanes to far away places. Out of my small World and into the World we go. I am selling my smart phone because I am on it too much & the money I get from that will sustain me in more fulfilling ways. Rather than sitting there master-minding all the paths of getting something that I want and hoping for some boy I like to click and open my story. I am selling my phone because I am tired of it bugging me and bringing my attention elsewhere. But, the internet is only a small piece of me. What do I have you believing? This may not work; we are too much a like. I keep thinking of all the reasons far and few in between. I'll eventually hate you for all that you remind me of myself. Or, I might learn to let go of those parts & find a greater love within. But, maybe this time around could be different. Maybe, this experience could switch around from my comfortable and never-ending melancholy and expected disappointment. Maybe, I could let all those stories go; let them fall to the floor and burn in flames with yesterday. I keep asking for another chance. I keep praying for a different way of knowing. A deeper faith dug further into my own well and just allow the truth to spill from my tongue. No regrets. I am Me. Forgive me, forgive you. Too long have I danced in the shadows of yesterday. Still waking up black with soot under my eyes.  Still believing if this could or couldn't. I have been battling these stories; the ones I have been telling myself since I have learned to read and write. I have memorized all their lines. All of these lies I have been telling myself to steer me away from the truth at hand. Easier to believe in some comforting story then making a choice for your freedom.Why must I stray from my truth of all that is Me? I want to be with Her in all forms. I want to hold Her in all delights. I want to know Him in all forms and love Him in all delights as well. But, there is something that holds me down. Is it my past or my pre-conceived notion of the future? Which is already happening now.