Happy after a day of rest. Reflection over cold coffee. Family.

 There’s a bird chirping outside the window and I’m drinking coffee for too long.I bought orange organic roses for the dinner party of Friday before Valentine’s Day and I’ve set them on the coffee table to enjoy them. I’m going to give them to the garden on Valentine’s Day.

There’s therapy tonight and I took medicinal superfoods yesterday to soak in my brain and dna.

DNA… the compounds of Klamath lake blue green algae. The spiral pattern of spiralina algae…

The lakes where it forms, how it’s harvested. How it’s the most nutrient dense food and nourishing by just a teaspoon… 

I’d forgotten I had a bottle in the cabinet and made my favorite lemonade. Blue green lemonade.

For days I was wanting to take some reishi before the airplane this weekend. Something my body called to me for was 

Paul Stamets super 7 medicinal mushrooms. And a teaspoon of cacao alchemy… with reishi cacao combination.

Heart opening.

Long meditation. Rest. 

Simple, warm water. Calm nerves.

Nothing much came up I didn’t get cranky.

I am into the open mind open. Unknown. I gracefully accept. 

There was a middle of the night thought about how I miss Ray.

But that the best decision I made despite opposition was to divorce Chris. Because he treaded me not as the best friend to raise a child with as I’d hoped. It’s very very difficult to let go of the screen of peace my words weave around him, about him. It’s the truth the truth is he’s not okay. He yelled at me and drained all energy into exhaustion from not being good enough… okay then I’ll just raise alone with family then! Ouf how I felt like shit and hid it! Hid it under a smile to keep trying! I provided but it was all scoffed at.

Anyway it’s mean for me to not understand why he wanted a wife to fuck but I wouldn’t do it. Couldn’t do it. He was angry and resentful making small household tasks into mountains of guilt. So I flew. but it’s also cruel and I feel the guilt in my heart in a way that I need to let go of. The guilt of being a catalyst for change.

The bravery to make decisions for myself to become an independent woman. To be really loved.

Sometimes being an independent woman means eating tuna from the cabinet with crackers and leftover spinach. Sometimes being an independent woman means everything to me as I have the freedom to create. 

The freedom to be me without scrutiny or hatred as I’d experienced from the ones I chose to love me, didn’t. In the past and that’s okay.

Saving money isn’t glamorous but it’s grounded and peaceful. Saving money means freedom.

Freedom from capitalism is freedom from patriarchy, something that I don’t resonate with at all.

The energy of myself has always been totally feminine. Intuitive. Patient. Flowers and paisley.

My heart and belly needed extra help yesterday before Valentine’s Day.

Extra meditation. And that is what it is.

Going to San Francisco with my love.

Ray is my baby, as we drink cherry juice together and he plays game boy games while making fart noises.

Chris is returning to his community of record people. In a small apartment.

And he’s with his ill father who is getting better as chemo is working. I’m glad for him. That his beloved father is getting better. 

I still haven’t heard from these people who I chose to love me…. This idea….his family becomes my family and they’re all tight knit from the Midwest. How they all cared for weeding their gardens and I made them a family member who they love…. But it’s not me because I’m gay. Because I chose to break free from sexist laws they lived under. Because I spent two years in Topanga. Because I journaled and acupunctured to health. To safety.

Marry your best friend, get health insurance, care, have family. Family once meant everything to me. The house was to a T beautiful and I’d spent all my money and loveliness. All my nourishment. The unspoken

Was so loud. As they said they don’t care, now…. It’s different. As they found reasons to make me feel shame, to hate me. I didn’t show up to family gatherings that summer when Christine needed me more.

And the big reason and more reasons…And now they don’t speak to me. The Valentine’s Day memories are over.

I knew this would happen and it did. Instead of feeling the shame I must use the medicinal mushrooms and cacao like a broom on my heart and brain.

A new life of love is here. A genuine love that is right. In a place that is right.

For myself, not just following Chris and crying in the closet as I’d done for many years.

Quietly suffering breakups and crushes. This is my life now and I love it. I live myself. I love who I love. 

As the forgiveness is healing I love Chris and Ray. And his family, to move on my heart.

I release the shame.

As I release my fear of airplanes I release the shame of making a decision to better my life.

Because that holds no shame.

Making my life better opens my butthole. Opens my heart. Makes me inspire breath. Makes me be a better mother. I choose a life of rest and peace and that is not selfish.

Just because others don’t have the luxury or financial know how doesn’t mean I should feel guilt.

I moved to Pasadena to my own bungalow because I could, in freedom and joy.

The dark clouds of judgement are getting old.

Day by day older, as past choices fade like high school. Fade away in time. 

Becoming an adult was journey more difficult to me than others. That’s okay.

I embrace myself and choose love. I ride this wave remembering chocolates and the cookie tin from Ray the first year we were living in different places “ this is for you because I know you love chocolate and the color pink, Valentine’s Day is your favorite holiday mom. I got these for you from my favorite store. We can bake cookies together in this tin” 

You can use it when you miss me ❤️ 

My sweet Ray.

I’ve read that children need their mothers until age 7. Oh! How I was so tired from abuse and shame.

How I held him to sleep safely on Arminta to wake up at six to hold his hand to school. Make sure he had a jacket even if he caught me to not wear one.

How I made an instant coffee and walked over to get him. The spring greens of poppies on the field me and Mary made glazes on!

Let’s go inside, c’mon bolder. Chip it!

Moving to Pasadena was the right decision for me but not for Ray and Chris. I shrunk down my life for motherhood in a way because I couldn’t afford to live.

The house was a 4000 power bill and mortgage.

It was isolated from taking Ray places to stimulate his mind.

I needed to move.

And so I did. And here I am. Taking a full day to pray and meditate yesterday. 

 Not knowing what is better. There’s this diaspora from the valley theme to Pasadena that repeats itself when life gets too much.

Pasadena is peace. Pasadena is old and the mountains understand me.

I am here again. 

Rays 8th birthday to now….

Am I like my grandmother? More than I think?

She also left the valley to escape. Well I’m less tacky I hope.

The way she left was so sudden and damaging.

As Ray gets older I won’t be afraid to talk about it all. I am here for him night and day still. Two therapists a team at school. I set these up for him. I hold him and I calm his body with music and nice smelling oils. Pillows full of flax and lavender.

I did not just leave. 

February 2024.