Tag: life

confuddled moments

I have always felt just a little bit better after reading a book or writing a thought down. I feel more settled, less stressed, and way more focused.

Then life steps in. Again. The projects and lists and guilt and forgotten dreams. There they all are, as if somehow by sitting too long, I clear the way to see to the back closet of my mind. And I know that I can be busy to avoid them. I’ve read that chapter, analyzed it, talked about it, and still, there it is. Tiny passageways each leading off of the main corridor from my heart.

Like tonight. Watching a movie. It all came back to me in a split second. Staring into his eyes over his sister’s head, laughing with her as we stepped onto the stage at summer camp. Seeing him in the audience, our eyes locked, and I knew in that moment that he loved me. It shines a light in my heart even so many years later. And that feeling.  Oh gosh, that feeling of euphoria, the bright moon, crisp air, and the HOPE – that one day all things would be right, that we would end up together, that our kids would come to this very camp with their dreams and their youth. And it’s funny to me how in some random moment, my heart beats exactly the same as that day so very long ago. It beats to the rhythm of that life that is long gone, the dreams that will never be, and it mourns anew.

The same heart that longs for more and dreams up gigantic propositions and crazy notions of a business all my own, that very same one sits in quiet sadness over the ache of a lost love, a lifetime of youth now long gone, and it beats on alone. 

Now that’s a word I don’t use to describe myself. Alone. Technically I’m not, but when it comes to this endless responsibility of parenting, my heart drops. I have this feeling that even with all of the organizing, designing, and ceaseless speaking – I’m not even sure that I’ll be satisfied whatever the outcome may be.


And that’s where I am right now. Moving like a bulldozer towards some illusive self-made goal while mourning and rejoicing over everything else. Confuddled. Saying goodbye to my precious baby girl, agonizing over the decisions I’ve made, wanting more time and yet excited for what’s in store. I always say that the funny thing about me is that I initiate so much change yet really just long for none of it.

And tonight I let the thought cross my mind that there may never come a time when I love again or that I am loved. It’s a truth I acknowledge. And I have to be ok with that. I am ok with that, in fact, because I know that I was once loved. Loved with poetry, songs, letters, and a thousand moments. He may not be mine now, but I am forever indebted to him.


So here’s to the memories that I have yet to make and the ones I hold dear to my heart.


rhythm and memories #fmfparty


If there is anything that we wish to change in the child, we should first examine it and see whether it is not something that could better be changed in ourselves – Carl Jung.

I’m sitting in a coffee house. On a Friday. With my laptop, a book, and no one needs me. Sounds like it’s time for the #FMFParty to begin 🙂



My life’s rhythm has changed once again. No longer filled with steady beats, but more staccato and high pitched melodies. She sings behind, in front, around me, and sometimes it’s lovely and sometime’s it’s not. I have less demands and more. I help less and instruct more. Most days our rhythm is mellow, frantic beats if something needs to get done, then smooth melodies at the end of the day.

I love this crazy life I’ve chosen. I love it. I was reminded today by my mother, ever so wise, to not find my value in the monetary amount I make per hour but to remind myself that this less than perfect option allows me to live the life I want.

I want to be around her, though sometimes she drives me crazy. I want to see all of the little details that she does. Appreciate the noises she makes and hears. “Listen! Look! Mooooooom!” Yes. This rhythm and melody, I have chosen.

And it’s going to change again soon. No more sitting and working with the constant chatter of gibberish and wild stories about abamdaloons with hizawhatnots. It’ll be homework and bedtime and weekends. So, as I fight to find the beauty in the chaos, I am reminded that the rhythm we have is everything I’ve always wanted. It’s everything I need it to be. And it’s going to be the best part of my memories. 


starting in the middle

Pretty much most of my life was spent thinking that I would *know* when something was supposed to happen. The golden moment. Timing perfectly coinciding with my dreams and open doors. Yet here I am. 31. Single momma. A room redo incomplete as I type, an early morning position to fill in for, and an assignment due in class. And the truth is, life is messy. No lie!

So I am starting in the middle of this, what some would call, mess. I’m just going for it. I’ve researched my way into procrastination, planned my way into piles of lists, and pretty much NOT done what I was made to do for the last three years. I’ve also been healing and learning, and I am happy to see progress in the heart department. But it’s time. Time to move ahead and make these fanciful thoughts and cloudy daydreams a reality. Even here in the midst of a crazy life, I make a motion to make life a BEAUTIFIED mess. Because we are, in reality, always in the middle 🙂