The signs are all saying do less
Not sure where my simple life ended
If I could start over
I would
But I can’t
So I visit there looking for clues
Just keep writing and it will all make sense
It’s shaping up like a storyteller’s life
Full of fortune, misfortune, and risks
Laced with romance, rose-glasses, and chances
Tempted to hold out now for the apocalypse
Throw all my big plans to the winds
Because uncertainty’s closer than my lover
And makes me cry in love’s afterglow

I thought all my problems would be solved up there
If I just juggled and puzzled and tetrised long enough
As if life were a series of math questions
I’d eventually rule out enough variables
As long as I didn’t give up
Or run out of time on the test
Or get too wrapped up to think straight
Meanwhile the world stopped making sense
And I would trip and stumble and bump into people
Then, boom
The silence of the heart’s wisdom
Drowns out the noise
Feels so much like nothing
It’s easy to write it off
As progress delayed
Going off the grid
But there’s information there
People around you come alive
An awakening ensues
The world tells you what to do
The heart only feels
It doesn’t ask for your rationale
It comes on strong
Like light flooding dark
It’s always there
Behind the curtain of your thoughts
Waiting to be remembered
Ready to change your life

Nice to see data
Money and love
Currency of the Universe
The more you feel it
The sooner you have it

Cross-eyed and splitting hairs
Mesmerized by the merry-go-round of life
All the while wanting to be the one stopping and starting the ride
So focused for so long
Got exactly what I wanted
Which wasn’t what I wanted
People keep saying I should play a new game
The chill-the-fuck-out game
Try to roll with MGMT
Instead of Metallica
I don’t know…
I get nervous when I slow down
Do I have a lower gear?

We need more fluidity. More connection to each other. When you’re connected to 500 friends why should anyone struggle? We need to lean on each other more. We need to meet each other’s needs.

We need to say “how can I serve you?” And less, “how can I have some money?” How can we serve each other if we don’t know each other’s needs? Craigslist, among friends.

Our resources need to be fluid. Money gets stuck, sucked into vortecies. Into coffers of those who bet on our misfortunes. They told us owning a home was the American dream, an American right. An American tax break. And they built so many, we could all have one. Then, nope, just kidding.

Renting is more fluid. We need to be more fluid. You might get laid off tomorrow, and need to move.

Why should anyone struggle? What if we changed overnight, and we all lived our dreams. Follow me, wade in chaos, swim in the soup of confusion around who we really are. Everyone’s tossed something in that bowl. I want to be an actress, and what if I’m wrong? I want to be the President, and what if I’m wrong? I want to fly airplanes, and what if I’m wrong?

Am I too old to change my mind? How many “no’s” are objective? How many captains are steering your ship?

God says to me, “You’re not ready to live your dream. You’re not dancing with me. You’re flirting with all the other guys. You’re staying too busy.” God is a jealous God. I know that now. He’s not like you. You’re what I want. You’re my symbol. You’re what keeps running away from me and I keep chasing you. You won’t love me back. You have your own agenda.

Would I recognize God if he looked me dead in the eyes?

Pulling, churning,

Stealing my happiness.

Angry, set off, neurotic,

Just like us.

Critical, controlling,

Untrusting.

Dismissive and superior.

What’s best for us

Is that we are free.

How can we be free together?

Angry songs and dropping bombs

What’s the lesson in this tension?

Maybe I’m ready to stand up and fight

Maybe I’m ready to die.

The stifling reality of being limited

In a world of infinite glory

Could I ever love enough?

Trust enough

In the umbilicals that are growing toward me?

Can I forget my inability to overpower my abuser?

Can I sing with this voice?

Do I have a choice?

I’m on stage

The light’s on

They are waiting.

My whole body smiles
Who knew it could be like this?
Thank you Kaya
I entered solo
Into a world of white
Radiant blinding bliss
They gave the dragon wings
Cause they wanted him to fly
I have the tools now
I never once imagined
Out of pain for a small eternity
Flying from cloud nine to cloud nine
With every loving stroke

They get you with the golden handcuffs

You like going out to the restaurants

You have a nice little house

You’re the man when you go to the bar

Buy everyone a round of drinks

It eats at you though

The fact that you can only put about 20%

Of your passion into your work

Another head hits the pillow

Heavy with the knowing

You’re only living

About 20% of your life

The longest two days of my life. A million questions. No good answers. Facing hopes, disappointments, dreams, disillusionments. A conscious, non-impulsive choice. The kind I hate to make. Content to abandon all my other foolish choices for a chance at intimacy. Feeling connected. For the hope that my love was not in waste.

If I keep meeting half-opened hearts, what does that say about mine? I thought I had laid it out bare, beating nakedly and irrhythmically for all to see. How could I love any greater? How can I be any wealthier? What more can I give?

My wheels won’t stop spinning. Something is missing. Can’t tell if love and peace or action will save me this time. Still too many irons in my raging little fire. Some have been sitting there too long.

Cleaning out my spaces. Clearing out the clutter. Could life be so simple and free? The what-if game is noisy, I just want some peace. Some rest, some wisdom, some focused fucking effort. A sense of knowing when to say when.

Plan A crumpled and tossed.

I don’t trust myself yet to take care of me and I feel like I bought all their lies.

Is it like the time I bought a ticket to Hawaii?

And he said “I wanted to be the one to take you to Hawaii”

“I promise to take you there, just put the ticket on hold.”

Or is it like the time I woke up in San Francisco?

31 years old

Children scattered all over

Dead and alive and frozen

Pining for my years in Africa

When I was a mother most of my life

Valued for my love and beauty

And the teacher

Planned parenthood symbolizes everything I hate about modern life

Its complexity

Its hard decisions

Its sterile hospitals

Its science and arrogance

Its planning and waiting

And waiting

And chemicals

Its detachment from living things, their imperfections, their organic timing

Its conflicting messages

Lucky to have been born free

In a country and a time where anything is possible

Where HOPE is possible

But hard to live inside a fabulous

Life-giving machine

When everyone keeps making rules for what to do with it

Then throwing monkey wrenches into it

Stalling it

Harvesting it

Manipulating it

I don’t appreciate the tinkering

I don’t know where this is going