Auld lang syne. 

For the old times.

This has been an extraordinary year. I bought a cool old house. I changed jobs. I overcame panic (so far). I faced death in my heart and drove toward it. I have given my children to God like never before. We haven't locked down once. My sweet little Alison came to us. Evan and Jessie got engaged and beat Covid the same week. I can go on and on. 

I am not afraid.  There is nothing that shows what we are made of like adversity. Here we are. I am better than I was yesterday, and next year will bring me closer to my truest self. 

My sweet bird sent this to me today:

Last Song of Your Life 

by Pink

If you had one song left inside your soul
What would you sing tonight?
If you had one chance left before we're old
The last song of your life
What is it you wait for? Tell me who you are
Not what you've rehearsed, all the other parts

It is of no interest at all to me
What you have or who you know
Can you tell me just where you have been?
And what you've learned from it all
Tell me what you dance for
How you've been a fool
I don't want the headlines, I just want the truth

It would be so good to see the real you again
It's been a long time, my friend
If this is the last song of your life
Then I'm inviting you to get it right

When you're authentic, you're incredible
I like the view behind your eyes
There was no one else who could break it down
And cut right through to the heart
I just wanna lie underneath this tree
While you whisper secrets on a melody

It would be so good to see the real you again
It's been a long time, my friend
If this is the last song of your life
Then I'm inviting you to get it right

Happiest New Year! 

To all the old times. 

All the lifetimes we have lived and the ones to come. I would gladly go do it all over again. And I will certainly feel that way about today. Let's live and love. This is our best time. 

April

So I will praise You on the mountain

And I will praise You when the mountain's in my way

You're the summit where my feet are

So I will praise You in the valleys all the same

No less God within the shadows

No less faithful when the night leads me astray

You're the heaven where my heart is

In the highlands and the heartache all the same

My birthday came and went quietly. Just a day. 

I'm 55. 

I look back and ahead. So many thoughts. Laughter, tears, loss, joy beyond description. There are people I have lost. I think of them often. Most, if not all, were not ready to leave. I don't mean they were in some spiritual peril. I just think they would have stayed given the choice. As I would. But today, like perhaps never before in our lifetime, we are all on the edge of sickness and maybe death. Some have crossed over. I wonder if they wanted to stay. Probably.

Someone that I love told me a few years back that I can't save everyone. That I need to stop trying. I know he meant to save me the trouble or the energy or something. So I shrunk back a little. But I actually believe I can save some people. Not their souls. Or even their lives. But maybe it saves me. Maybe it's all about the trying. So, I am declaring, I want to dream again of lifting you up. Whoever you are. I want to pour the rest of me out. 55 is a moment . I am just getting started. 

So let's put aside fear and hatred and opposition. When we pass, what do we want said about us? Or better, what do we want said now? I hope that it will be said that I loved fiercely and maybe too much. That I loved to laugh and eat and shine. That I showed up. 

God promised in Isaiah that he would not snuff out a flickering flame. I have held on to the wick with all my strength . And He has been faithful. My little light still burns and shines. 

I love you all . Let's not let these days go to waste . People have gone before they wanted to go. More will. Those of us that are able to stay, let's live. I intend to. No fear. Or maybe in great fear. Either way, I'm running to the battle. Or the party. Or wherever I am needed. This is our time. Let's do great things. 

God bless us. 

To Leon and Arliss

Dearest Angels,

I would first like to say that you are perfect. In every way a person can be. Your hearts, smiles, and beautiful perspectives. They are authentic and real.

I think about you both all day. I obsess some. About my fears. But in the end, regardless of what this world brings to you, you will be ok. I'm living proof. There are a few things I hope you learn along the way. Perhaps from me.

Be kind. Find the people that need it. They are everywhere. The chances are limitless, and you will save the world by doing it.

Love is real. Whether you are giving or receiving, it's what is at the end. All roads lead there. Look for it, fight for it, and never give up. It's why we are here.

Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen. You don't have to explain it. You mostly can't. But Light shines in the darkness, and that speaks for itself.

There are things worth dying for. Worth living for. Be fearless. And when you are afraid, do it anyway.

You are loved and wanted more than you can possibly imagine. My heart hurts when i think of it. I am the luckiest person in the world.

And lastly, it's never ok for Florida to win. Never. Ever.

I love you both with all my heart. I just wanted to say it here.

Reappearing Man

Reappearing Man 

By Andrew Harvey

I have heard it said, and have believed for quite a long time, that there is no such thing as staying the same. We are forever changing, growing, dying. Standing still is impossible. Like all of nature, we move. Thank God. I also believe we are getting better or getting worse. We don't have the ability to just be satisfied with our current state of evolution. We are mostly water, and to stand still is to be stagnant. We are always flowing closer to love or closer to fear. And you get to choose. I can choose. 

I love this picture that Andrew created.  It reminds me that with every part of me that dies, another is born. I can rebuild me. Bit by tiny bit. I am so often faced with my imperfections. My parts and pieces that aren't palatable for some. It saddens me. But I am me. I've been watching The Crown lately (thank you , Bradley). It's a history of the post WWII British monarchy. So far, the best character is Winston Churchill . How could it not be? He is honestly one of the best characters of all time. A great soul and man placed in one of the most dire hours in our history. His command of language coupled with a genius wit and dogged resolve inspired England to survive Hitler. But after the war, his gift, or the gift that was him, wasn't needed. A new era did not require a war dog. And so, tragically and appropriately, he resigned and faded into the end of his life. I think about my life. I wonder what gift I am? Have my greatest accomplishments passed? Or has my hour even come? And will I have the grace to know? Churchill stepped down, but continued to paint and write and inspire. And only the world beyond knows what his and our most lasting and influential moments really are. 

And so, in great tradition, I dedicate this to the new 2018. The new year, the new you, the new me. Because we are always new. Our chances are new. Our hope is new. God's mercy is new. Everyday. I am ready to flow and meander along. Come with me, little brooks and streams.  Good luck to all of us. May we choose love more times than fear. Live in the truth. In the Light. Happy New Year. 

As December is upon me, and consequently the end of 2017, I'm not all that sure I have very much to add to the collective conversation. It's dark out there. I feel tiny shards of light here and there, but overall, Heaven seems very far away.

I pray.

I still pray. And with no logic, I believe. I don't think it's going to get me any points. People will keep lying, babies will get sick, men and women will be unfaithful, and many of us will be alone. Good people will die for no reason except that they went to a concert or the mall. But I will believe that there is light and peace just beyond this heavy blanket. I believe my prayers make tiny or large holes in the darkness. Like Eleven of Stranger Things when she gets her fight on. I believe that we are that powerful. That we can open passages for angels to get through. I feel nothing. I just know things.

Merry Christmas. Look at some lights or the stars. Hope. Or be the reason someone else does. Be visited by angels. Heal someone. Hug yourself. I don't think we have anything to lose.

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
    because the Lord has anointed me
    to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
    to proclaim freedom for the captives
    and release from darkness for the prisoners,[a]
2 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor
    and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
3     and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
    instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
    instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
    instead of a spirit of despair.

Isaiah 61

Fighting the Jade (with all my heart)

"Since God is love, all is well. If all is not well, it is not the end."

One would think, by watching my life, that I have never met a liar that I did not offer my heart to in earnest. I apparently think these people are the cat's ass. Again, one would think. I'm not sure why I do this. Perhaps I'm still fixing little Karen, but I really would like to just accept her as is. 

When faced with truth after a shit load of lies with a partner, friend, parent, or whoever, you don't get to just chalk it up. You must go back to the beginning of the relationship with the said liar, and insert this new truth into every moment. It all becomes redefined in light of this reality. Nothing was real without considering the truth that was hidden. It fuckin sucks. It also takes a while to grieve what never really was. 

This may seem to be going in a crappy direction. But to the contrary, not so. As much as these moments hurt, I will always celebrate the truth. I can deal with the truth. And I am dealing.

Truth is....

I have the best kids I could ever imagine . I get to help raise my Leon, and I am grandma to my sweet Arliss. I live on a lake with a beautiful view. I work for a man that is in a 3 way tie with my favorite people in the world. I found a farm nearby where I get raw goat's milk. I have great friends that love me. I am honest. I do not hurt people with lies. I have all the sports channels. Light overcomes the darkness. I still believe in God. I have no idea what He is thinking. But I believe I will know one day. I still have love. And I think I can save the world. 

So, that is today. Peace to all. 

Veritas. 

Angel

Being Me

Being Me. Based on a True Story

Introduction

I don't know how you or I got here. I don’t see how any of us can be certain really. I know we are here. We are born as a part of some assigned team. Some of the teams seem stacked like a Catholic school football team. And some of us are on shitty teams with drunk coaches like the Bad News Bears. (The first one with Walter Mattheau.) It’s all by chance or Someone is doing this to us. I’m not sure how I feel about it. A few teams have great uniforms and really nice equipment. Kind of like the villain teams of every Disney sports movie. And then there are the commoners. The team that stands no chance. No athletic ability, no support, maybe one kid on the squad that can throw or kick a ball. Except in real life, they don’t pull out the miracle win. At least not from what I’ve seen. But they keep playing . Because they love the game or just because they have to. 

I have a friend that is a spiritual healer. I call her my magic eight ball. She communicates with what she calls Spirit and gains insight into people’s lives that help attain their greater good. She’s awesome. She lives far away, and we only talk through text or email occasionally. I would talk more. I would abuse her gift. I’m sure I already do. But seriously, why can’t Spirit tell me if I should grow out my hair? What’s the big deal? Anyway, I asked her once (many times) what is the meaning of life. Like, for real. What the fuck? She said, and still maintains, that the meaning and purpose of this life is to experience love. To give it, receive it, perhaps lose it, and work for it. To overcome fear and embody love.

 Ok. 

So here we all are. Walking around, living. Some say we existed prior to this and that we got together with our team of eternal traveling companions and chose what we would learn in this life. Which really pisses me off. What was I thinking? I can just see Cosmic Karen at the big table. I’m thinking about dealing with these abandonment issues once and for all. Let’s hit the daddy issues hard. And I want to feel it all. Hell, I even want to feel other people’s stuff. Yeah. That’ll be perfect. 

And so, April 13, 1965, I came down the tunnel in the universe. I landed in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Daughter of Vance and Kay Louque, sister of Kay Lynn, Little Vance, and future Kandi. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked, and an umpire yelled, “Play ball!” And I did. We all did. 

And this is that story. The account of my journey. Not in chronological order, because I’m too lazy. I’d rather just stream this out as it surfaces. Childhood memories, yesterday, my children, all of it. Happy times, drunk abusive men, rock concerts, sunsets, laughter, nursing my children, marriage, divorce, marriage again, you get it. It’s all mine. And yours. I’ll try to only cast myself in bad lighting. I have no interest in making anyone feel bad. But some things are just ugly. And some are beautiful. Whatever they are, the experiences are truth. They are the sum, so far, of my evolution. My becoming Love. 

I Don't Want the Title to be Titties

I have no idea what's it's like to be you. I try in small moments during the day to be empathetic. Mainly it's to counter my judgements about the people I interact with at work. But mostly, all day, everyday, every moment, ALL DAY, I am me. I have things swirling around in my head, and if you are one of my five blogger fans (you know who you are), you know that I write to organize this shit. And so, this morning I have my boobs and gray hair, the meaning of life (aka Are You serious, God?), my liver, and a thousand other things that keep popping up. So I will try to get some of these in order.

I was always thought of as "skinny" growing up. It wasn't a compliment. Oh sure, girls would always say they were jealous of my ability to eat so much with no apparent consequence, but guys didn't give a crap about the fact that I could eat quarter pounders with cheese. They liked boobs.

Titties, folks.

And my daddy, who I miss every day of my life, didn't help. From an early age I only remember his pointing out beautiful women on TV or in public by their breasts. The bigger the better. Or prettier in my young mind. So I, being me, fantasied about having the biggest and the best. I was very entertaining. I used to walk in to a room at 9 years old, or the softball dugout, or anywhere, with soft balls in my shirt. Socks, tennis balls, you name it.  I drew beautiful women with cleavage. I could not wait to have them. And then puberty came. And everybody started getting them. Everyone but me. I wore a training bra (wtf) just to have the cool strap showing through my shirt. But the boobies did not come. I adjusted, of course, but I always wanted them. And there was no way in hell I would have gotten implants. That would have been surrendering. Screw that. So I carried on with small boobs and found out you could have a good butt and get by. And I nursed my children for a cumulative decade, so eat me, society.

And then I turned 50. And kids, my breasts are growing. Not leaps and bounds, but slightly. I can make that cool little line of cleavage if I try. And I will. I have gone my whole life without the pleasure of being objectified for my chest. And I have no idea how much time I have. I feel like it's a miracle, and I'm not wasting a second. So brace yourselves. I am working these girls. And I won't even pretend to be offended. I won't say, "Hey, I'm up here." It's ok. You can look.

Which brings me to my head. Or my hair. I am finally going gray. For real. (Where are you, Hatton?) I am happier every day that I become my real hair self. Like implants would have been, I have always felt like I was giving in by dying my hair. Like I was conforming to a standard of beauty that wasn't mine. So I am free.  Sticking it to the man. And in my mind, pretty. I will say more about this journey on another day with a picture or something. Maybe a cool nonchalant shot of my hair and and some incidental cleavage...

I was going to touch on the meaning of life, but that's pretty big. Bigger than my boobs.  I'm not sure what to say. I have more questions than answers, and I am kind of tired of the search. So today, I will look inside for meaning. I will love me and try to shine that light to the ones that I am with. I want to portray some hope to my grandchildren that life is not futile. That we are here to experience love and joy. That we can experience love and joy. That the crying is for a greater reason. That life is more than boobs and hair. But boobs and hair are fun. And fun is good. I work a double today at JBBQ. My life is good. I will write again soon. About my liver. I miss this.

Sonnet XVIII

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
   So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
   So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

It's a beautiful morning. Really.

The sun just came up, or more accurately, my little part of the world just rolled around enough to see it. It's such a matter of perspective, isn't it? It's just like us to think that the sun is moving for us, when in fact, we are the ones. I would imagine it's that way for so many things. I guess it would be cool if the sun moved for me. But what would I do with that kind of power and importance? Honestly, I don't want the responsibility.

And so, as the world turns, as my world turns, I am happy. I have an inspiring view of a lake and the sun. The water sparkles with what must be a million or more shimmers. Two hawks visit everyday and sit on a branch so close to my porch. I read that they mate for life, and it's mating season. So they are dong their thing. Without dysfunction or abuse. No cheating or lying. They aren't passive aggressive or flying around checking out the other birds.They are both committed to life and nest. Both doing their part to make it happen.

Like the hawks, I am doing my thing as well. Choosing each day, all day, in so many moments, to be ok. To be happy and content. To love and accept.

Queen is playing in my head.
Find me...Somebody...Tooooo....Love.

That resonates with my heart. I'm learning that I'm right here. I've been here the whole time. That long search ends with me. The world winds up right in the same place from where it began. With me every single day.

2015 and now

Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight
Lead me out on the moonlit floor
Lift your open hand
Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance
Silver moon's sparkling
So kiss me

 

2015.

 

 I am dedicating this to my sweet Hatton. The above is a quote from the last song I got from her. One of many. I put it on often after work, drive the long way home, and cry. I think we both do. Mainly because it's so sappy and beautiful.

 

The last year has been one of transformation. Of getting on with living and accepting, with joy, my lot. I learned in the smallest way the power of my words. I am trying to speak well to myself. I am also learning to be thankful for what is to come. Before it happens. I can honestly say, I am different. Better. Not Bionic Karen. But Super Karen, using my power for good.

 

So many miracles have happened! Chelsea conceived a sweet baby boy, and we will welcome our little Arliss in the spring. I moved in Robin's lake house and am living and supporting myself like a big girl. I am working at JBBQ and helping raise my angel, Leon. My kids are still perfect. They are my light. I turned 50. That feels cool. I got food poisoning in Vegas and was wheeled out on a  gurney through a resort casino by what had to be men from the paramedic calendar of hotness. That sucked. LSU beat Florida. And I cried less than previous years. I'm still a smart ass, and I work with people who are in to that sort of thing. Earth is a good place to be.

 

I haven't written much this year. I haven't had that kind of energy to spare. I've needed to hoard it like canned food in the zombie apocalypse. But I am feeling...well, I am feeling. My heart is full of love.

 

I don't really want to reduce the last year to events and circumstances. There have been many. But they come and go, and yesterday's big deal is today's triumph. It all comes and goes. There is one thing that remains. Three things actually. Faith, hope, and love. My life is proof of that. And so the next year will continue in that stream.

 

The coming year is upon me. I intend to eat cleaner, practice more yoga, laugh just as much, and enjoy what is to come. Oh, and write more! I used to dread what was next and for good reason. But now I will anticipate the future with hope and interest as to how God will work it all out. I am in a good place. We all are. We just don't always see it.

 

So Happy belated New Year. It's the year of goodness. Of peace. Love you all.

 

 

 



Chelsea Hatton Johnson

In Honor of My Dear Hatton,

I want to say some things to you, and  thought you would like this venue. I know you do.

In the beginning of 2009, we were both hired at Johnny's BBQ. We were Kelly Hires. We got to train together, and learn all the ins and outs of our BBQ life. We were fast friends, of course, and I have always been so happy to see your name on the "board" or the dry erase above drive thru. You always appreciated my humor, my songs, my dirty jokes, my family. I know there is a life time supply of hand sanitizer somewhere in your house with Bradley's name on it. I remember looking forward to when I could get you and Evan together for that Rap off. And that's because of you and your hood rat taste in music. We used to text lyrics to each other. You were NEVER stumped if I started a song, you always finished it. I think you can agree we kind of always went back to the classics. I think our best work was with Ignition. Me with the Toot Toot and the Beep Beep, you coming in strong running your hands through your fro and all. And my kids all order the Hatton. I'm sure it vexes the kitchen being pressed and all.... I will miss you so much.

I think about what I will miss. Your flowing hair, your smile, those eyes. Your humor, your genuine interest. That's it. What I am going to miss so much is your love for me. You loved me. And I do not take it lightly. It is a special trait and a rare spirit that makes people feel wanted and special. And that is you. You truly delighted in us. All of us. And the world is not that great now. I will think of you every time I walk in JBBQ. Every time I hear certain songs. When football season comes around. When we laugh at work...

Thank you. I am better because of you. I am still your mama bear although your position is greater, and your view is infinite. The last thing you said to me was how glad you were to have worked that shift with me. You touched my arm and said, "Now I'm healed, Karen. I needed to see you." I will say the same to you when I see you again, Love. This wound will remain until then.

Good Bye for now. If you are allowed to haunt, come see me. I love you.

In his own bed...

Happy

Today I got some encouraging mail. My little social security report came in. It's the one that reports my earnings throughout my life and then estimates how much I will get each month when I retire. Well, aside from the fact that most people make in a year what my lifetime income has been, I feel ok. My number looks like I will be able to buy enough cat food and wine to see me to the end. I'm stoked.

I have not written much lately. That doesn't mean that nothing is happening. Contrary. I am rebuilding my life after all the inner struggles that I have been through. I blame no one for the struggles. It's my journey. My life. I'm driving, and my brakes work. So does the gas.

I am completely honored that a friend texted me today feeling lost and in the dark. He knew I would understand. The fact that I was turned to when something too weird and painful to explain was happening...well, welcome to my freak world. What if all this was for something? I will shine my little light.

Love will make you do some crazy things. It has made me do some. I have offered myself a la carte, allowing someone to choose only the dessert or the best or whatever. I'm like one of those elephants that hunters took the tusks and left the rest of me, my whole self, to rot. No more. I know that James Taylor said that there is no doubt that love's the finest thing around. He's right. I want the real stuff.

And that's about it. I am happy and whole.

My little preview

Well, I have crossed the bridge into 2015. We are here. I am so glad. Seriously.


Instead of talking about last year, reviewing, summing up, I think I will take Robin's advice and preview the coming year. Like a movie trailer.


When doing yoga, there are several poses that are a challenge. One in particular is Butterfly. That's ironic since I have a relationship with butterflies. But when in that pose, you are sitting up and putting the bottoms of your feet together causing your bent knees to loosely resemble butterfly wings as the insides of your thighs are screaming. At least mine do. But when I breathe and let go, I am able to go deeper into the pose, even bringing my chest to the floor. It appears that when I protect myself by holding on, it hurts more. But when I lean and breathe and surrender, the pain is less, and I can go further.  I would have to acknowledge that what I thought was protection was just the opposite. And so, I lean into the discomfort, and it dissipates. And that is my general theme and hope for the coming year. Embracing the things that have scared me and leaning in to fears and pain. And watching them let go.


I am purposefully becoming aware of how I feel about myself. How I regard and speak to myself. Quite honestly, I have discovered that I would not want to be around someone that speaks to me like I have spoken to inner Karen. But not only have I not been kind, I think this has allowed me to put up with others doing the same. Debasing me to get love. Making myself small so as not to get in the way. The concept of self love has been as foreign to me as Mandarin Chinese, and my desire to understand it has to be compared to my interest in learning that language. But as I become mindful, I can see the patterns changing. The reversal of connections that I cannot even begin to see when they came to be. As I correct these things, this self talk, I feel differently. I not only respect myself, but I can't imagine allowing others to treat me unkindly. I know all about turning the other cheek. And I have embraced it. But I want to know about loving others as I love myself.


For the coming days, I am full of hope. Hope that I can and will prosper. Not just on the inside, but actually on the outside, too. I typically don't dare to think that I could have more. And so, I am grateful for it all. Leaning in to the discomfort and feeling the release. It's very exciting. I feel good.

My karmic destiny and what not

There is a belief system that says that we all existed before entering this world. Supposedly, we were cognitive spirits, and we got to choose more or less the lessons that we would learn in this lifetime. To evolve us. To bring us closer to what God intends for us. I have even read that we kind of travel around with the same group. Through eternity. I have no idea if this is true or not. How can any of us really know? We have such limited scopes. I believe in the afterlife, but that's all I have. None of us know anything until we cross over. We can read sacred texts, pray, and dream. But nothing will be more solid until we see face to face, and not in this dim glass.


I look at my particular life and wonder, if the previous is true in any way, what was I thinking? I am pretty sure I thought a little too highly of myself in my pre-life. Kind of like getting on the biggest roller coaster and then realizing on the first ascent, oh shit. I think my group and I were a bit ambitious. Some have fallen by the wayside. I keep trying to drag those along with me. To my demise perhaps. But I am still here. Looking back and in the present, I try to see the recurring themes. These lessons that I am learning that I perhaps agreed to. These are a few...


1.There is nothing greater or stronger or more full of Light than Love. Giving love, having it to give, experiencing it, receiving it. It is the one great purpose. The reason we are here. It is the beginning and end of this road. The destination. If I can see all things through love, through this meaning and perspective, then I will stay on the narrow path.


2. People can be assholes. I can be an asshole. This is an astounding lesson of the universe. Learning to know my worth in the midst of being mistreated. Knowing how to forgive and knowing how to love the ones that are dishing it out. I am really trying to tell myself NOT to choose this one next go round. I need a break.


3. Food is wonderful. And sex. And music and laughter.


4. God does not give us gifts. He makes us the gifts. We are the actual gifts to each other. Just being who and what He created us to be is Light and medicine to the ones around us. We are a puzzle that is on the kitchen table, being worked on by all of us. Completely in the way, too hard, and way too big of a project for one person. We are not meant to do this alone. And when one of us falls or stops or closes up, we all feel the pain. It ripples through our atmosphere. I think perfection would be each of us being the unique creation that we are. No walls, just us.


5. Change is good. We never stop growing and becoming. I don't want to be this Karen 5 or 10 years from now. I want to be more open, peaceful, and understanding. I want to be the gift that I am supposed to be. And I want to remember that everybody else has their own set of lessons. Their own changes and agreements that they have to work through. I am not the center of the universe. (!!!)


I'm positive there are more lessons. More crap that I piled on in that cosmic meeting 49 years ago. But I like my traveling companions. A dream team! Seriously, look at my group! Puts my bar fight team to shame. Maybe I wasn't too ambitious. My biggest lesson today is that I am not lost. God sees me and is moving me along. I feel it. I know it. I am at my best when in a corner. I am strongest when I am down and almost out. My Light is the brightest in the darkest blackness. My power is in these times. Who knew? Maybe I did....

Rats and Hope

A few months ago I started seeing little holes in my avocados. They would appear overnight and I, being extremely tired, did not attribute this to any being. As the days wore on and the avocados were steadily molested, I began to see what was clearly rat droppings. I bought sticky traps, the other kind of traps, and I strategically placed them in what I thought was all the clever places. I was apparently outwitted as the traps never yielded any success. But the rat poop continued. Honey and I were awakened one night to shrieking under the fridge. We stood frozen and terrified. It finally stopped but I knew this was bad. And so I bought the big gun. D-Con. I knew the risk. The dead rat in the wall. But I had no choice. I placed them all over. Even outside in the azalea bushes. That was a trouble spot for sure. I had seen glimpses of them scurrying through the branches like monkeys in the rain forest. I hated them with all my heart. With all this effort, they seemed to be enjoying the poison. And I was vexed.


And then the day, in broad daylight mind you, I walked into my kitchen to see a long squiggly tail disappear into my cabinet. I was done. I got a quick, hard to swallow lesson on my rental lease and found out we were kind of on our own. I may have cursed at someone knowingly on speaker phone on this day. I clearly recall saying that I knew I was on speaker phone so everybody can listen up....And I apologized a few days later in person.


That is when  Sean the exterminator came into my life. I answered the door to a man in a pest control uniform, and I asked him if he was the one that was sent to save our lives. He said yes. And then he swung into action. It was like turning a cat loose in my house. He immediately crawled in spaces I had been avoiding. Disappeared into the attic. Now he's behind the dryer. Wait! He's under the house. He placed poison stations all over the property and assured me that it was over. He would be back to collect the bodies. I love men. Period.


And so it went. Sean, in his plastic suit and gloves crawled around and retrieved about ten dead rats the size of which he described as big. I trusted him. A couple of rats died in the wall, and I found out that incense is an excellent mask. Today, with the purest hope, we are rat free. Today.


I have often wished, like Frodo and the ring, that the rats had never come to me. I have also wished that my engine had not blown up, that I did not stop receiving child support, and that the love of my life was real. All at the same time. But no one chooses the fire they are to be tried in. I guess we would all choose something less hot and with no flames licking us. And so today I imagine that my spirit is like the azalea rat bushes that Evan graciously cut back. When I say cut back....they were about ten feet tall, and he cut them down to two. No more rat maze. But it left the entire front of my house looking like shock and awe. Like my yard had gotten a bad haircut. Like me, they were cut to the core. All the life they had was on the outside perimeters. So far away from the heart. And now, I can see new life. New tender growth is springing forth from all the old, pruned branches.


I hope I can bloom again. I hope that my car runs for a long time. I hope I can pay my bills. I hope I can fill the hole that is in my heart from my loss. I hope. And that in itself is a nice little shoot coming out of me. I have hope. I have no business having it. I know that.


 But I do.

Happy Birthday Bradley

Today as I was slow dancing with Leon, I realized I have been dancing with babies for 25 years. It is Bradley's birthday. I can look back and remember how afraid I was. How diligent and deliberate. How much in love. I have never known a love so strong nor do I expect to. I clearly remember feeling like I finally knew what a mother bear feels like. Ferocious love.


I can see now the great purpose in my life. The thread that has run through and will continue. Devoted love. Undying, perfect, and all encompassing.


I love you, Bradley. Happiest Day! You began God's great work in me. Thank you.

Today is one of those milestone days. It's a sad one.


I was thinking the other day about judgement and mercy and the ways I used to think. I look back and still feel like the same person, but I had some really misguided ideas at times. I can remember feeling very right in those moments. When I was a child I wanted to grow up and have lots of children and be a mom. I thought I'd cook and keep house and have a good marriage. When I was 16 I wanted to move to New York City. Dawn and I thought we could be prostitutes for a short while. To get on our feet and all. I still would love to move to NYC, but I'll wait tables or something. When I was a little older I abandoned my big city aspirations and returned to the idea of being a mom. I guess I fulfilled that one except for the happy marriage part.


I now believe that life is about love. Obviously, I could be wrong. I've shown that. But if life is about love, then it would make more sense than anything else. Maybe we are all evolving to the state of being able to live without fear and be able to experience giving and receiving love. I thought I had found that on this particular day a few years ago. But I was wrong.  Again!


So today I am looking around me. I have been given a beautiful little person that needs me. Needs my love. And as life would have it, I need his love as well. Maybe more. And so I begin again, or keep going, or whatever the hell we do. I will never give up. My life is full of hope and sadness and laughter and love. I will keep trying to get it right. I'll keep trying to be happy. Especially today.

Sweet Angel

Back maybe

I actually read my blog last night for the first time since March. I haven't had the heart to since I am very comfortably living in denial. But like all good things, it has to come to an end. I will admit....I like me. I wrote so much about the process of the end of my relationship with, let's call him, the hot fudge sundae. My journey has been a painful one. It's hard to even look at pictures of myself smiling that big, sincere, I finally found true love smile. Yuk. But through it all, I am here. Wiser? Yes. Better? Not sure. Jaded? A little. Badass? Fuckin'eh.

I am a grandmother these days. I have rediscovered my newborn love. I hope to write more about that. I actually hope to write about lots of things. This is an experiment. A test. I have not had access to my words for a while now. So I am trying. I am not feeling it, but I am hoping that the effort pays off. 

I am still Karen. I have learned, again, that with God nothing is impossible. That He sees me. That He does not extinguish the flickering flame. That He trusts me with little people. 

I have learned, again, that I am strong. Stronger than I care to be. I am smart, funny, can be bitchy, and I look really sexy in poor lighting. 

My title implies that I am back. But I never left. I am just here. 

(from a poem by Mary Oliver)

It's been a while since I have written. Partly because I have been trying to be quiet. And mostly because I have an ipad now and just discoverd the keyboard. It's all better than my laptop, but I have to get used to it.

In my quietness, I have many thoughts. My mind is not so quiet with all it's themes and theories and resolutions and strivings. It's like all the cords that go into the tv. Everything is plugged in but is completely entwined with each other. so in order to move the furniture around, you have to unplug everything, untangle them, and re-enter the whole system. 

If last year was about outside forces, this year is definitely about from within. About understanding why I do the things i do. Looking way back to wounds that were inflicted so long ago, but still drive me in many ways. I think that the answers are within all of us. I have chosen very destructive and painful relationships my whole life. I am learning why I did that, and understanding that I can end it. 

I have been pondering the concept of forgiveness. I realize that if I tell myself I need no one, then I never need to be forgiven. To be sorry and ask for forgiveness puts us in debt to one another. We need each other. I do not want to go through life and not know the beauty and surrender of needing another human being. Of deeming them worthy of my humility and vulnerability. Of deeming myself worhty of theirs. I now know that Love stops when you do not need. It brings you to your knees, to your place. Love is from the ground up. 

Just a little forethought

I wrote the following a while back while pondering a book that is swirling around in my head. It's a preface, I think. Anyway, I thought I'd share instead of letting it sit in my documents wasting away....

I was sitting next to a lovely couple at a bar recently. I had gone away for the day with a friend and was having a drink and watching football. Being from Louisiana, I am never faced with a stranger. So as we "caught up", I found out that the couple had been married for 16 years and that this was indeed their anniversary. How nice! They had 2 young children at home, and then came the question. "Do you have children?" I readied for the response. I have 5. Yes, 5. No, they are all biological. Yes, I'm 48. Oh, thank you, but I assure you, my mind is gone. Ha. Ha. It's my little claim to fame. They are at this time 24, 22, 20, 18, and 15. 

 As we continued, the man I was with called for the check. It was time to move to our next location. But before I went, my new friend wanted to ask a question about parenting...Is this going to be hard? The coming years? It's going to be crazy, right? And, I thought, yes. She wanted my one big advice. The big thing. So I told her...Learn to say you are sorry.

She looked at me in a confused way. Huh? Sorry? I got the feeling this was not the parenting advice she was expecting. And there were so many things I could say. But we were leaving, so I had to get to the heart of it. The one game changer. And this is it. We get these little people entrusted to us. Not when we are wise, but so much sooner. When we are still mostly screwed up. And so, we are going to make a lot of mistakes. More than I can count. But with all that, if I can say I am sorry, if I can BE sorry, I can show my children what it's like to be human. To be God's child learning as I go. And our children can learn to forgive. To let someone else be human. And then, when we humble ourselves, we can allow them to be human, too. Not little replicas of us. But real people with real thoughts and real hearts.

My daughter recently found out she is pregnant. There are great books on pregnancy, childbirth, breastfeeding, parenting, and on and on and on. This book will have some of that. But also some of the "I'm sorry" moments. The "do not try this at home" stuff. Ultimately, it will be about finding and following your Mother Heart. Her Mother Heart. The one that is growing with her unborn baby. It will be about the voices that tell you one thing, and the undeniable pull in your heart to do another. It's how I chose to do it. And it was good. So this book is for my children becoming parents... so they can understand not what to think, but how to find their own thoughts. Not the right way or the wrong way, but their way. And it's always different with each child.

 It's about finding your rhythm. Your inner mama bear. And KNOWING. It's about knowing. And doing.

Love is in the air. And for some, the hope and longing for it. Either way, I do not dislike Valentine's Day. I'm not mad at it, as my Zak Davis would say. It is a chance to give love on a day that we are aware of our need for it. A day to make someone feel seen, loved, regarded. To put an exclamation on it. For them to know it. I decided that last year was my final broken hearted 14th of February. It stings a little more when think you are loved and then ignored. It's just not my loss anymore. Never was.

I have spent much time walking through the dark over the last few years. And writing about it. I've actually written less because it's been such a downer. But as the forest thins and the sun dapples here and there, I am able to think and understand more. It's hard to do that when you are in quicksand and what not. I can see the good that has come from this blackness, and so I will focus on those things. I will try to share what I have come away with while resisting the urge to make a list. Godspeed to me on that one.

I have Light. Inside of me. It dispels darkness like a candle when the electricity goes out. It doesn't require effort. It just is. I have learned that being who and what I am (and who and what you are) is the great purpose. That just being who God made me to be heals and chases away the dark. We all have different gifts, and it is our sacred meaning to cultivate our unique and perfect traits. They are God's gift to us and our gift to others. We need each other. I need you. I am not searching for God's will. I AM God's will. What He is doing inside of me is His great intent.

I am worth defending. The first line of defense is anger. And it's the first thing that was taken away from me. When you are not allowed to be angry, the walls are down, and the zombies overrun the prison. They just mill around, destroying the garden you worked so hard to cultivate, trampling all the goodness, murking the water supply. I have mistakenly thought that the notion of unconditional love was attainable and healthy. Not so much now. In a relationship, there needs to be that all important two way street. That beautiful giving and receiving. And if people are mean, it is good to be angry. I will say it again. I am worth defending. I have no problem defending others, but I have allowed the zombies to have their thoughtless, heartless, robotic way with me. Trying not to live that way anymore.

Talk is not cheap. It is free. People can say whatever they want at no cost to themselves. I love words. They are literally my heart and mind laid down on paper or on a computer screen or given in person to the person in front of me. When I speak, it is deliberate. My words are who I am. Not so much with others. I should not project that kind of sincerity. Which really sucks. But I knew this all along. I will try to judge people by their actions. Their hearts by their deeds. And if their only goal is to blow out my little flickering flame, then I need to get the hell out of there.

Which brings me to my great respect I have acquired for the darkness. I have always told Evan in his football days that you can be a stud, but there is always someone that can put you on your ass. I am no exception. I have learned that I am not greater, no stronger than the light and love that I have inside of me. And that there are some that can suck that away, and leave me for nearly dead. When it comes to love, I am a stud. But I have learned that I am no match for some entities. I need help. And so I am steering clear, not out of fear, but out of regard. Good game. I will go home and get better. Again, to Evan and me, the injured are dangerous because they know they can survive. Brushing off my knees and limping home. I'll be back.

And finally, on this post, I have learned that I am connected with my kids and my loved ones in a way that truly matters. I have a role, a job to do. When I am honoring myself, I can see the rippling effect in them. In Andrew and Chelsea. In Bradley and Isabelle. In Evan. In Honey and our little man.  I can feel just above the surface that our spirits are being drawn in directions that are for our greater good. I know it. And so, I am comforted in all the sadness. In the unrequited love. I have a few more tears to cry. But overall, I am ok. I have always believed that when going through hard times, I should learn the lesson at hand so life will not have to teach it again to me. The theme of my life has been my worth or worthlessness, honesty and faithfulness from men, and maintaining some kind of hope through it all. And the fear of deep water and serial killers. Each lesson has been more intense and accelerated as if God is saying it's time to move on. Like He's knocking on my head to see if anybody is home, McFly?

I am worth something. I have Love. I house Light. And I am home.

Happy Valentine's Day.

Wonderful World

Translation in progress. Please wait...

 

I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and for you
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue, clouds of white
Bright blessed days, dark sacred nights
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

The colors of a rainbow so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people going by
I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do
They're really saying I love you.

I hear babies cry, I watch them grow
They'll learn much more than I'll never know
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

I hear babies cry, I watch them grow
You know their gonna learn
A whole lot more than I'll never know.
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.
Yes I think to myself what a wonderful world.

 

The Love of a Cobra

I discovered a new show on Netflix. Well, it's new to me. It's about people that have exotic, deadly, predator pets that eventually kill them. It's called Fatal Attraction. It's frustrating enough to watch these people with their pet tigers, leopards, and cobras as they devote their lives to caring for them. There are moments of almost disdain in my living room where things are yelled out like, "She has to see that the crocodile has no feelings!", or "That guy is just a food source! The giant monitor lizard is going to eat him!" And then the lizard eats him, and we are all justified in our foresight. There are psychologists on hand for us. Explaining what is going on, helping us through these times. One guy says that these people have a need or condition in which they project human emotions on these animals. Like the lady that was already scalped by her leopard and explained that the look on the leopard's face was saying "Man I've done it now..." She allotted remorse to the leopard as he ate her. And then here comes the psychologist with the fact that these people usually need to love the unlovable. They need to transform something that is so bad and so unworthy in order to prove or fix there own plight. This would mean that they too are worthy of love. Damn.

I have my own pet tiger. I have been pretending that it loves me. That it is capable of love and remorse and that when it plays with me, it is saying that I am special. I have decided that when it does little tricks for me that we have a connection. I am thinking that I am more than a food source. I am important to my tiger. That he won't kill me if I stop bringing food. All my loved ones are shaking their heads. They see that I am the food thing to this beautiful predator. I am just compliant prey. I don't have the good sense to make it interesting and run.  And if I can just love this dangerous tiger enough, then I am wonderful. Lovable. Worth it. My, my, my.

 I am done with this. I like my chocolate lab. She is literally made of love.

Sad. Sorry.

I am reading a lot about trauma these days. Trauma in the sense of loss and grieving. Not the death of a loved one, but a loss of hope for my future with someone. Loss of innocent love and trust. Loss of all that I thought was real and all that I put into it. Another kind of death. I am always hoping that with enough understanding and knowledge I can perhaps lessen the painful effects of the losses I have experienced. And so it goes.

I used to look at the stages of grief as a map of sorts. Like some steps that you go through on your way to acceptance after a loss. While true, I never really looked at the stages as healthy in and of themselves. Like Denial. That just sounds like a bad idea. But I am learning that denial is actually the mind's way of dealing with traumatic loss. At first it's just too much to even admit. So our brains protect us from the reality. Then comes bargaining and anger. Each stage helps process the pain and bring it to its rightful place in our memories. Acceptance.

I have lost what I thought was my love. A friend told me recently that it takes five years to recover from the kind of heartbreak that I have been going through. I was not encouraged, but quickly started doing math. I have a solid three years of heartbreak under my belt as of today in this situation. So two more, and if I can learn quickly......please God. Maybe I can get out on parole for the merit of trying so hard to overcome. I know my friends are wondering why this has taken so long. Why am I still so sad? Honestly, nobody wonders more than I do. But here I am.

And so, I will keep trying. Everyday is a new chance to get up and get better. I will not give up. And I will get through these times.

Love

I love this song. The part that says "all of my affections, I give them all to you." Beautiful. I have struggled with love, being told that what it is not, actually is. I am not confused. And it can, in fact, be forever. This is love to me...


"Island Song - Lyrics"

Come along with me
To a town beside the sea
We can wander through the forest
And do so as we please

Come along with me
To a cliff under a tree
Where we'll gaze upon the water
As an everlasting dream

All of my affections
I give them all to you
Maybe by next summer
We won't have changed our tunes

I still want to be
In this town beside the sea
Making up new numbers
And living so merrily

All of my affections
I give them all to you
I'll be here for you always
And always be for you

Come along with me
To a town beside the sea
We can wander through the forest
And do so as we please
Living so merrily

My 2013

2013 is over. It is behind me. I am glad. I did the hard stuff this year. The inevitable work that had to be done. I felt like Gandalf when he thought he might escape the dwarf cave, and then he saw the giant fire demon. The look on his face. He knew that he would have to face it and either win, or die trying. But there was no other way. He jumped into hell. And happily, he did triumph with more power and better hair.

I began this 2013 with the extraction of my uterus, a massage license, and an ominous knowledge about my marriage. My divorce was finalized in April. I have no way of describing how that has felt for me without infringing on the privacy of others. I have learned the power of truth. And untruth. I have survived this war in my heart, but not without damage. It's ok. I am ok. I am home. I have two divorces under my belt. No one could be more broken about that. I always thought I was a forever girl. Oh well.

I began giving massage for a living. I have learned just a small bit about energy and love, intention and mindfulness. I have attempted to give to others when my heart was completely broken. It's not easy. But through it all I have grown to love my job. I love the process of healing people in a small or big way. I almost without exception get more out of giving a massage than I think my clients do. It is wonderful to make a living nurturing people. I am hopeful and happy about my future. I am proud of what I do.

In the midst of my turmoil, I met my dear friend Jami. Andrew and Chelsea mentioned her in their reviews. She is a Seer, Healer, and Facial Specialist. The things that she has told me have strengthened my faith in God, validated my bizarre pain, and given me hope in my inner Karen. I lost all trust in myself because I had to suppress so much. So she has been a huge part of helping me to listen to my intuition. I am not completely healed, and I may never be. I remember my ex mother in law Carolyn quit smoking once. She went years and then started again. When she quit the second time, she said there is a part of her that will always want to smoke. Like an ugly reminder of where she can go. I think maybe that will be me. I was so happy to be flying that I forgot my wings were made of wax. I had wings motha fucka!!! So I flew a little too close to the sun. They melted, and I crashed. Anyway, Jami told me that I was in transition. A butterfly. I have been changing for a while now, but I think I am almost done. It was August, and she told me that my sadness was so heavy, but the little boy in my life, my grandson, would bring the Light back and heal me. I said I did not have a little boy, but she said "He is here." Almost two weeks later, I walked in to my bedroom to see Honey and Chelsea crying. I knew Honey was pregnant. And I am thankful for the heads up.

And so, I am home, as I said. Our family feels like it is healed. I should not have gotten married the second time although I loved him with all my heart. It hurt me and hurt my children. But like Gandalf, we are stronger with access to a straightening iron. I have felt peace again. I have vision for our future. I have begun learning how to meditate, and I have been led home by a butterfly. And Andrew wrote a perfect song about that very thing. I have hope again. I am good, honest, and empathetic. I feel you.

Bradley, Andrew, Chelsea, Evan, Honey, and Isabelle. These are my lights. I know a lot of people that are not believers in God. And I respect them. But for me, it's like this: God will take care of us. But even if He doesn't, I still believe.

May 2014 be filled with wholeness and truth. With laughter and good food and music and some wine. With joy and BABIES!!! With good haircuts and long walks. I want to look at the stars more. I want to read and write and honor myself. Happy New Year. I am filled with love. Special thanks to Robin for her great love for me, My kids for watching me flounder and not judging me, Johnny "the king of catering" Mason for being there for my family, and Kandi, Missi, Carole, Zak, and Clyde for loving me. And for Nikki Beard for giving me a safe place to start my business. And my sweet and good mama. I love you.