06 December 2015

Bag of rocks

I am making a bag of rocks that need new homes. Rocks and an extra railroad spike. I don't know why I'm still carrying these heavy things around. I can let them go. I don't know where they're going yet. I'll know those places when I find them. If I'm going to do this, I should figure out the reason and the purpose.

I'm choosing the "Life is a Journey, Not a Destination" bag.

C always liked to pick up souvenirs. Everywhere we went, he'd ask if we could bring home a souvenir. He got kid in his voice when we talked about it. I don't remember where most of these rocks came from. Picked up in our travels and displayed on the altar, wherever it was. I need to put a more concerted effort into building my altar. I have a start, but I don't have a lot of intention.

There are other rocks in the kitchen, because the glass jar that used to be the meteorite jar is in the sink because I decided that if I am going to continue to have this thing, I might as well make it shine. The meteorite jar was a souvenir from one of our very first dates, exploring in Highland Park. It is a reminder that once, things were good. It's hard to look back on it now that I see it all as part of the trap.

These rocks need new homes. I feel like they should be returned to nature, or at least to the ground. To dirt, to concrete, to other rocks. I took them from their homes to put them in mine. I like this idea about moving rocks. They can't move by themselves, and yet they do. They travel so far for things that can't control their movement. And when they stop traveling, they tell long, long stories for anybody who knows how to look. I can aid them in traveling. In the process of releasing these heavy things that I no longer need to carry on my own journey, I can help them to continue theirs and have a journey where one might otherwise have stopped.

01 December 2015


One of the hardest things about the harrowing process this divorce has turned into is that I get really sick of looking at things related to it. Legal paperwork. Emails. Lists of names and phone numbers and dates. There is plenty left to do. I reach a limit. I can't look at it anymore. I just read a court order related to my car three times. I still don't know how much I can write on the Internet--you'd be amazed what else is readily available if you know where to look.

I am surviving. I am doing what I need to do. I am always ok.

Having a solid set of affirmations means more than anybody ever taught me.

I'm trying to keep Kate Bornstein's rule for life: You can do anything you need to do to stay alive, just don't be mean.