This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine...

Monday, July 19, 2010

First Poem in My New Home: Peonies, Mary Oliver

I raptly held Mary Oliver's New and Selected Poems Vol. One Friday morning at the book store. The few poems I attempted to sop up were so good that I knew right away this was to be my first poet here.  It made immediate sense: a naturalist, a sensualist in my new, natural, sensual home.  This feels like a mile stone of some kind...though it feels like the markers on my progress here, now, come more rapidly than every mile.  While I await more poems from this book to permeate my consciousness, I have a perfect summer poem for you.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

"Don't bother me. I've just been born."

The living room is some kind of Bazooka Joe Pink now, and the little room is becoming pistachio or melted mint ice cream green.  We're moving from the "mother-in-law apartment," which was originally intended as a bachelor pad, as soon as we can get it all together.  In the process of emptying the contents of one room we found the small remains of the two pound bag of Twizzlers that accompanied me on our drive from Chicago to Belfair.  Those damn licorice twists still entice me, even after eight months of aging, but they also help me begin.  I want to take stock. 

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Not the Most Constructive of Posts

I feel like I'm in the midst of a hormonal mutiny.  It must have begun sometime Sunday, when I noticed that I had less energy to devote to listening or interacting with my visiting friends and partner.  The first signs of emotional overthrow were evident Sunday night as I wailed, tears streaming in buckets down my face.  In my stress had my first moment of feeling like a terrible mother...


...and I thought it was bad when Billie got lost for 24 hours.  All the books talk about mood swings and the developing worry habits of expectant mothers, making me want to bury my head in the sand and put on another distractingly hopeful Pixar movie.

On Monday I had an emotional hangover, which I attempted to douse with meditation, yoga, and my normal daily routine.  Look for jobs, clean house, make meals, play with animals, meditate, yoga, rinse, repeat.  At least I've managed to work flossing back into my daily routine.  Four days in a row and counting. 

Yesterday, I did alright until I got home from my day at the local employment center.  I was even feeling close to motivated.  The appearance of my little home in the woods deflated me somehow though, and I wound up under the covers devoted only to finishing Water for Elephants (very good, by the way). 

I admitted last night, or realized, that the sensations in my abdomen are probably my growing baby's movements.  I felt how my stomach organ is up much higher than before and then realized the gurgling / popping feeling in my lower abdomen were Mm. Niblet in the flesh.  Exciting, right?

If I weren't so busy trying to keep my head above water maybe.  I feel disconnected from most things that I know bring me joy, disconnected from joy itself.  I dreamt of blood for the first time in months last night, and am suddenly having bouts of middle of the night insomnia.  There are tiny plans, directions, percolating in the back of my mind; good instructions on how to keep going, perk up, focus and allow for it all...but they don't remain clear for long.

So...sigh.  I'm having a grand old time.  Even my sarcasm is limited in scope... Just hang out, some part of me assures, this will pass too. 

Thursday, July 8, 2010

The Practical Guide to the Fulfillment of Your Dreams

I wrote in my journal this morning, "I feel the latter half of my twenties has been defined by searching for work."  Really.  I'm willing to bet, but not execute, that a search on this blog of the words "work" or "job" would return several dozen entries wherein I bemoan the work I have or don't have.  It sucks.  It's not work that sucks, it's how I am playing it out. 

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

The Zygote Chronicles

I have been feeling fantastic lately.  My optimism is strong, my appetite less ravenous, my energy high, and good feelings are abound.  I seem to be limiting myself to a maximum of five minutes of emotional freak out a day, which has to be about an 80% drop from two weeks ago. 

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Red, White, and Poor Un-eaten Purple

On July 4th we behaved like absolutely typical Americans.  We drove long distances, drank carbonated beverages from cans, ate multiple kinds of meats, and watched explosives in the name of "Freedom."  I learned much about Seattlites on this day.