Vacuuming the Dog

I struggle with atheists. And not because I disapprove of their beliefs (or lack thereof). My struggle is because I’m fairly certain they are right about the whole ‘god doesn’t exist’ thing. I think that’s probably factual. I mean, if I could somehow turn off the emotional part of me that so desperately wants god to exist, then I’d probably also be an atheist. Two things would need to happen: 1) I’d have to want to turn off the emotion part of me (which I don’t), and 2) I’d have to suspend my belief in god (which I don’t).  I love believing in god. It makes me feel like a child. It makes me feel like there’s magic to all of this. As for religion? I don’t know how to feel about that. Attacking religion would be easy. There’s so much to attack. There’s so much wrong with it. Personally, I’d rather not attack anything; including atheists.  But maybe if I’d want to do one thing, it’d be to wrap them (atheists) up in my arms and tell them ‘Sure, we originated from nothing and are...

"Healing isn’t about acquiring something outside of yourself. Healing is about returning to your natural state." - some instagram influencer  When I bought my truck, I felt empowered. It was some symbol of so many things. My achievements in career. Taking care of myself and tow things without needing to borrow a truck. Impressing men who think that a woman driving a truck is a novelty. Making my own money and spending it however I saw fit. Being able to think for myself.  It’s interesting how often I fall into these traps. These traps of proving myself. You’d think that by now I’d learn. You’d think I’d already know that owning someTHING, buying someTHING, or identifying with someTHING would be a trap. Yet, I often forget. For all I know I may be repeating another loop of this trap right now in my obsession with disowning things. Career, relationships, stuff, money, and….the truck. Today I sold my truck, my beloved Tacoma. I don't name cars, so much like my other vehicles...

Today I belted out Night Swimming while driving around the 'burbs of AZ. I was immediately transported back in time to being a teenage lifeguard at the D.C. Pool. As a kid I never went to summer camp. Just to the pool. Every. Single. Goddamn day of summer break. And then in my teens, I worked at that same pool. It was such an innocent and precious time. Then again I'm a bit addicted to nostalgia so I probably romanticize it a tad. The lyric "I'm pining for the moon" caught my attention, nearly bringing tears to my eyes. If there's anything that could describe my current mood it'd be Pining for the Moon. I'm not even sure why. That's the thing about pining, it describes a thing that's just-out-of-reach. The moon has always been a bit of a mystery to me, so maybe that's why I'm pining for it. The mystery of the moon relates to this whole theory that lunar cycles and menstrual cycles are said to be synced. There's lots of lore around t...

Originally published: Sun, 14 Jan 2018   My favorite installation at Burning Man '17 was a simple TSA-looking sign that says: Leave your emotional baggage behind and remember who the fuck you are.  It was that year that I finally started to shake off the guilt, shame, and fear that had been caked on, layer upon layer, since I can remember. For me, shaking it off resembled a mix of a just-in-from-the-rain-wet-dog; Taylor-Swift-esque-sex-appeal [a la “Shake It Off”]. I was a beautiful fucking mess.    The part of my story where I walked out on my husband and left our little life behind got me into a state of being unbelievably open & raw & willing. I had been into the yoga and meditation bit for years, but all the other things that were once off-limits [e.g. New Age bullshit that I used to look down upon] were now intriguing and totally up for grabs.  I just wanted to fucking heal. In the same holotropic breath, I often replayed the nightmare of ...

Hi old friends!  As many of you know, I've blogged before. Technically I've been blogging for like 20 years. But never consistently. Which is odd, because I tend to do a lot of things consistently. Just not blogging apparently. Anyway, today I was cleaning my house. Naturally, vacuuming was part of that chore. And along with vacuuming the floors and furniture, I decided to vacuum the dog. Ya know, just to get the soon-to-be-shed hairs that were ready to find their way onto my freshly vacuumed couch. I've done this to Josie (my dog) many times and I find it very charming that she doesn't seem to mind being vacuumed. I'd mind! She doesn't. She's sweeter than me in general though.  Okay, with a name like "Vacuuming the Dog" what could this blog possibly be actually about?  It'll likely be random to be completely honest. In the past I've written about love addiction . So that'll pop up, I'm sure. I've also written about spirituality...