In a Pear Tree

When I stop and let myself think about it, life is going really fast. A lot has changed, I have learned a lot and there is plenty to do – every day – from dawn to dusk.

I stopped my posting streak to contemplate the art of the quick publish blog vs. the complete thought. I wondered if a happy stream of consciousness where the writing stopped when the scene changed could be considered “complete” and I felt the angst of having to pull for meaning in order to sum things up, tie them together and otherwise leave things resolved.

In a lot of ways, not only is that impossible to do when you are in such a wide turn of change such as the one in which I find myself but it also brings the personal challenge I have always had writing on the internet: how to skillfully tell a story without revealing too much, how to be vulnerable and private, how to offer insight but not seem too much a wanderer / wonderer.

Life is happening so fast. And yet despite its rapid growth, there are crazy delays and drags which cause me to question if I am trying as hard as I should be, putting in the time I need to… am I meeting my goals?

In my 4 decades of living, times I start to analyze, strategize and organize to reach a particular aim, seem to create this little pocket of opportunity for uncertainty and friction. My controlling nature creeps in these pockets. Right behind it, is my emotional nature that sobs and cries; never really fully satisfied with herself and so she over compensates… over protects… over thinks….


And I can’t do that anymore. I am retired from that type of achiever type of thinking.

My solution this time around is to just keep going, keep living. Keep doing what feels right. Keep trusting myself. Keep trusting my intentions.

Be kind. Be kind. Be kind.

To myself. To others. To the dogs.

And just like that, the crazy delays and drags that come up are seen just as they are: as realities against expectations. They morph from obstacles into opportunities to be a little more Buddha like in dropping ideals. When all the ways I think things should go are gone, things are simply going – available for attention and progress… and I find myself writing a flow out in a blog post. Confident to publish and get up. Sure I won’t re read and save draft.

When I sat down to explore this morning in writing, I was prompted for a Title by WordPress and after a couple of ideas, I heard, “and a partridge in a pear tree”.

Why the redundant lyric came to mind is beyond me but I recognize the comfort of always coming back to it, where it all begins, with one.

One life. One heart. One mind. One step. One day. One year. One moment at a time.

And so with all the dogs and cats, the publishing project and the marriage, the houses and the dishes, the teen girls and the boy. With all the laundry and the cleaning, the networking and the living, the gardening and the coffee and the music.

With all the all the all the all, there is just one of me. A partridge.

this saturday morning: welcome back to my blog

it’s still before noon here in the central time zone. one of the almost 6 month old puppies is giving off a “please cuddle i am so so sweet also this is different than what i am used to happening right now” whine and the most interesting thing about it is that i don’t actually know if it is the boy dog or the girl dog, the caramel colored one or the blonde.

i told my husband to expect that in 4 – 5 years i would likely want another puppy: a gray one that i can master train to be a gentle giant, loving big fat amazing dog. like the kind built for mountains, treks and carrying supplies – providing warmth and emotional support.

a long, long time ago – like right when the crate and barrel on brentwood blvd went up, that plaza had a couple of shops that were for design minded people. one of the shops; it’s shop owner had two bouvier des flandres. i felt completely enamored with these gray, tall gentle wandering souls who glided behind the shop keeper’s case and looked at me only to say hello.

the baby dogs in my house now have fallen silent. the only sound in my house is some appliance hum (no laundry), the birds outside and the faint dispelling of radiohead coming from our bedroom where my husband naps. likely not dreaming of that same gray puppy.

having two puppies is – for both of us – colliding worlds of independence and order with chaos and random events. part of the reason for the two puppies at this junction is because it is all mixed up anyhow.

we are both exploring and operating.

on a personal level, i am the boss of my creative life which requires settling into ideas that are new to me:

i set my schedule completely

i take baby steps towards my dreams.

i express myself freely through music, words and song as an emotional gift to the world.

ideas i have known and always known (my husband is brilliant, his talent unending, my kids? glorious (and all on vacation) etc etc etc) are the roots of this whole new machine: my titanic, my life force, my creative energy.

gratitude, at some point, evolves from appreciating what you see to honoring what you know (about yourself and others).

trust is that gratitude’s inevitable fruit.

said another way: thoughtfulness is spacing out and forgetting’s best friend in that one needs the other to hurt in order to heal.

Trust is spacing out and forgetting’s best friend.

Me, 7.17.21

an opposites attract sort of thing.

welcome (back) to my blog. please consider sharing my writing.

for those new, hey how are ya – you usually find me on family stuff. if you got here because of the word “puppies”, let me know in the comments and let’s start sharing ideas on how to raise littermates, siblings, and establish independence.

ok. that’s all for now.

A married woman with her children lays on a theatre bench in Bellingham, Washington’s Boulevard Park July 3, 2020. #PandemicBride

airports and big rocks @ my parents’ house on a spring day

last night i asked david for his thoughts on me buying a plane ticket and immediately cancelling it just to buy a plane ticket. just now, sitting on my parents’ screened in porch on a march day where the sun and the breeze work together to both comfort and remind you of your need for comfort, i had a pulse of longing for that way you feel when you deplane, work your way through that familiar yet unfamiliar corridor with your suitcase of exactly what you believe you need for however long you planned for.

it’s a feeling of novelty meeting intimacy and exploration using roots. travel. travel, i love you.

on my instagram story this morning, i shared how – in surveying my mom’s backyard for a place to sit and do a little reading and doodling – i realized my obvious choice of: on the creek bed rocks. i shared some of my favorite sits across malibu, ojai, palo verdes, washington state bays, florida beaches.

pretty sure it was after that little picture hunt i had my craving for an airport, that feeling of my travel charms against my chest and the smell of whatever essential oil i chose to accompany my journey. the feel of too much starbucks, a new time zone and the excitement – focus – and anxieties of travelers around me.

i love people. the people i meet on travel have a special folder in my icloud. confident young girls, old graceful men, foreign women who are beyond elegant in their simple cosmopolitan ways. the sunglasses, the water bottles, the caps. the shoes.

i always notice peoples shoes when traveling. i take pictures of my hikers by rocks. i marvel at who people are when in common commute: who are you and why are you going where i am going? though not the one who initiates conversation; i might ask you a question or offer a thread of thought, of appreciation, or compliment.

i think travel is when the real spiritual work of moving people from one place to another happens. it’s an ancient thing: moving from one coordinate to another. and the astonishing truth that a moment with a stranger can change a person’s life, an annoying stranger can give you the patience life lesson of a lifetime, a new food or cultural attribute can inspire a whole new chapter in your life.

i have always said i love travel because it allows you to see yourself against a different backdrop than your ordinary one. things you love and did not realize you love, you will find when you travel. the things you do consistently – that are a part of your being – you do when you travel. the things you need more of in your life, you come across and cherish when you travel. you become when you travel.

today? i traveled to my mom’s creek. i read a myth about how two constellations came to be based on native american folklore. i laid out a half of one of my poems for my publishing project. i drank coffee. i felt chills.

where will you travel today to feel something different? to love what you love? to be who you are?