Momma don't let your Cowboys grow up to be babies.
Today would have been my 15th wedding anniversary, and although the breakup was inevitable and a welcome relief to both parties involved, I never expected a nasty finish with bickering over what day desks will be picked up, and who is allowed in the house when. Really? Are we not adults, first and foremost? We have to continue on with our lives and hopefully not drag the junk of the past behind us. It is very difficult to do that when the other party is trampling on your zen. With cleats. The only solution is to lift my gaze and, like a bad dinner party, know that these moments will soon end.  Know that however badly the other person is behaving, that it's one of two root causes: either it's a power play - in which case, easy peasy...you don't engage in combat, simply continue as if all are in agreement and call the police if necessary. No game playing here. Or, the second possibility...the other person feels sad and bad and doesn't know any other way to express that, since this breakup was his doing. In either case, he's a tool. A Man would have respect for the other person AS A PERSON on this earth...no matter their past relationship.  I'm speaking only of myself, but using the confusing third party.  Sorry.  If there was physical abuse, there would only be one very clear answer...have the sheriff join you and you have 1 hour to move your crap out....now, GO. Verbal abuse and power plays are a bit trickier to negotiate, but no less destructive. I have given him the day to move, and even found him help to move the heavier things. Since that day would cut into his playtime and won't work, I will be moving the stuff to the garage, with said help, for pickup at a later date of my choosing.  That is my choice. There is more argue than stuff to argue about, and I won't have it. I will not.  This weekend, my house will become my home...my sanctuary.  It will be my space to decorate and worry about and host dinner parties and friends and struggle through all the physical maintenance. And hang art in.
Have a cupcake in my honor today, and I will toast your braveness...your day-to-day getting things done big and ordinary.

I've been feeling like a little slug lately in the mornings. My INTENTION was to rise & shine and go to the Y for some Aqua Fit fun, but before I can even open my eyes, I remember that I'd have to shave my legs and walk the dog and blah and blah and soforth... Next thing I know, it's too late to go. I am giving myself gentle space, without giving myself permission to squander these gorgeous mornings. Henry has been needing so much excersize too...he's getting roly poly. And snippy. I'm surrounded by animals that have no appreciation for their above-average standard of living.  My cat (actually Not My Cat) has begun pooping on the carpet in big stinky messes that the dog finds tasty. If you're grossed out by that, imagine having to clean it and smell it every single day. And Purrl knows better...he is just not getting the attention he got when my husband lived here. Ex Husband? Estranged husband? Whatever the title, tomorrow would've been our 15th anniversary. I will have a cupcake in that honor. Next weekend is his final-ish move out. I say "ish" because who knows what odds and ends will be left by accident to ambush me in a weak moment? I was still having some great weepy moments till things took a nasty turn last week. But back to me & the cat. Purrl is cozied  up next to me right now on the couch - a first ever.  Like he knows his days are numbered here. I hate the thought of taking him to the humane shelter. He is a good kitty, and deserves the very best home with lots of attention lavished upon him. And tuna once in a while but not too often.  But. I cannot be a slave to this house...these animals. There is a lot involved in maintenance, as it is.  And yes, a cat is no trouble -especially one with no claws and an easygoing personality. But my eyes itch constantly, and this misbehaving tells me he is deeply sad without someone to play with him. Which makes me feel guilty in my own house. Even worse, when my Nikki died, Purrl grieved deeply - sleeping on her blanket and coming to cuddle me. He stayed at the foot of the bed on Nikki's blankie for days, and followed me around the house. So now I feel worse trying to re-home him. But.  Ugh okay enough.  He'll probably walk into his new home (yet to be found) and be happier than happy.  Someone to play stair ball with him and brush him...he LoVeS the brush.
Enough ramble...time to start getting ready for work.  Pick one thing - and I absolve you from guilt from it...close your eyes...go!

sometimes the loneliness leads to depression…but it's fewer and farther in between those times now…at first, i could barely make it through the day.  now, weeks go by without even realizing.  i am learning to be alone without being lonely - learning that i will be alone an evening, but the next day has activities and opportunities and obligations…like the little pup that's gently tapping his nose into my leg right now…"remember me??"  The loneliness no longer has an upper case "L" and it is certainly not the looming monster that will come to stay forever like a bad houseguest.  it is a moment's chance to catch my breath and sit with my thoughts and see what the next few steps are…a chance to still my monkey mind, and breathe purposefully.  But never ever go to WalMart on a saturday night.  no.  it's time to take Hen on his promised adventure - a new word he understands.  Be well, be gentle, be happy, and if you be lonely, call me...

"…you knock at the door of reality

shake you thought-wings

loosen your shoulders

             and open."

"…but don't be satisfied with stories

how things have gone for others.

Unfold your own myth,

without complicated explanation,

so everyone will understand the passage -

we have opened you…"

leafing through "The Essential Rumi" to find poems to paint on my walls this weekend.  These two will be awesome, plus my favorite Night Sky.  a quieter morning as a certain amount of Tetris goes on inside…feelings, thoughts, beliefs, hopes…all thunking down into a snug spot, fitting up against each other just right.

Still trying to find a home for Purrl.  he is miserable with the lack of attention, and has begun to show it by pooping on the carpet.  he has been such a good kitty - he deserves a quiet home that will give him loads of play time indoors.  my allergies are wicked, since it's rained non-stop forever, and i haven't been able to open the windows to clear the air.

hey - want a cat?

I mailed my check to new Hampshire today.  not sure what's there for me that made this great pull, but i will honor the guidance.

now - off to walk Henry through the shelter of the tall pines where the rain can't get us.  but the mosquitos can.

a rainy saturday afternoon, as i get ready to meet a friend for dinner.  i love the rain…i sat out under the gazebo earlier, after i finished the laundry and dishes and grocery shopping & reorganizing the shelves in the medicine closet.  i try to keep busy :)
my friend, the chef from Ireland, gave me his cooking school cook book…a hefty volume, if i do say so.  an amazing gift.  and it started to reignite the urge to prepare love on a plate…to move about my kitchen with purpose, and set a beautiful table and gather folks for conversation…all that being creativity of another sort.  i am slipping into my new skin, these days…casting off the dark & heavy cloak for a lighter step, a less clumsy step…confidence and renewal has spun a golden shawl for me and i feel proud to wear it - the patched spots well earned.  so much was lost for no good reason, but it is certainly time to step out of the ring of destruction and move ahead, without looking back.  i reclaim my place in this physical house…making drawers and cupboards work for me…selecting colors that sing to my soul…finally hanging my artwork, and the artwork that i've collected.  my studio has a large area cleared and ready for work…still some outer areas to finish up, but the main part of the studio is usable once again.  and it is a studio.  not an office.  not The Big Room.  not "your room up there."  it's My Studio.  how long i'll be here - who knows?  but a good place to catch my breath, perhaps grow roots, perhaps move out for adventure…time will soon tell.
wishing you a cozy afternoon & evening - even if it's 100 degrees….

"The space between
the tears we cry
is the laughter that keeps us coming back for more
The space between the wicked lies we tell
and hope to keep safe from the pain…"

did i listen to that song hundreds of times in the past few months…years…?

somehow, I've squeezed through that space, and have, indeed, found the trampoline to bounce out of the rabbit hole…yes.  everyday is Yes.  and more.  is it everyday easy?  au contraire.  some days are totally a joy and a wonder and candy frosting on an ice cream scoop of love.  somedays, it's just shit.  but that all meets at the median point of pretty damn good, my friend.  it's easier in that i know where the edges are, and i can step to them if i choose…or not.  i can listen to my body and respect it's needs.  there is no more martyr in my soul.  the strong intuitiveness has found it's voice in me again.  and now a new space occupies my need to make art once again…to restart and jump start and get the fire going - to dance and proclaim and cook a soul s'more over.  and that new space, despite all this oogly googly talk of dancing around fires and proclaiming, the new space is a calm, intuitive assurance deep within.  i feel the last gasps of struggle, as the need to KNOW what's ahead and control it fights against the certainty that all is well.  even if it isn't, all is well.  there is a reason and sometimes you just don't know why until after….whatever after after is.  and it isn't fake-it-till-you-make-it, or keep up a good face - because God knows mine has been streaked with ugly cries.  it's more that knowing, as you go through hell (and we all do) that there will eventually be a reason to be grateful for the fire.  and pray that you can get through quickly!
so the new space sounds more like this:

"…We are the night ocean
filled with glints of light.
we are the space between
the fish and the moon
while we sit here together…"
Rumi

My favorite poem - soon to be painted on my new bedroom wall.

I am returning to a place that started it all in my soul…i am returning as a different person…i'm not sure why this absolute need to return, but it is a strong pull, and i've learned to heed that.  I thought that I'd put everything in those woods to bed, but i am new, and for reasons i don't know, there is something for me there, once again - perhaps a connection to make, perhaps to be someone else's connection, who really knows…but it is certain that i belong there this year.  and having had some amazing opportunities presented to me this season…none of them settled right within my heart - through no disrespect of the offering NONE whatsoever.  i would love to be on a private island with a private chef and all the art materials i needed!  and the offer was amazing - just come.  or travel to New Mexico…*groan of longing* or see the amazing goodness of a treasured soul on the Pacific coast - again, Just Come! thank you - from a deep place in my heart, thank you.  but it isn't where i was meant to be this season.  i will follow the leading of my gut, for once! and speaking of gut - time for lunch, and a walk in the woods and then to work.  Thank you for holding my place here these past months…for returning to check on me…did you know I held each of you in my cupped hands and brought my hands to my heart each and every day?  hard to believe but true.  and in that act, you helped me stay grounded…helped me re-remember that there's more to this than the moment, and that my life's worries had been traveled through before by you.  thank you for looking back and grabbing my hand…

so where were we???

here's where i've been...

in my woods...

just dandy - walks with Henry

henry finds a prize

 (mama deer walks thru my yard every day - sometimes with her spotted fawn!)

(Purrl)

 (the new guest room, with Purrl NOT sleeping on the old white bedspread he's been sleeping on forever - choosing instead to sully up the new one)

 And I have….

Yes, it has been a long road, and i'll spare the cliches here, but i now know the meaning of being "pulled through a knothole backwards."  yes.  i have been breach born into this new life, and it has been as rough on me as the One trying to birth me.  The waters are deeper here, but clearer…and like the ocean's salty water, it buoys me…i feel held aloft on the tears I've shed…yes, i feel an entitlement to claim my spot here - something new.  not a boastful, smug entitlement, but an acknowledgement to the gift of the past few months and past 15 years - i have grown and become the woman i now am because of the that time. it's funny, when a woman would say to me "i'm divorced," it was'nt something that resonated in any particular way with me…just, oh - she gets to sleep in and make ice cream sundaes for breakfast if she wants.  now i know that those 2 words carry with it so so much more…so much that unexplainable...the tears…the fear of almost everything dissolving…the standing up and getting knocked down and standing, once again.  seeing some friends pull away, as if it's a disease to be caught…seeing some pull away for no real reason that you can imagine.  seeing some friends, old and new, stand so close to you that you can't possibly fall down, and taking your midnight calls to say the same thing over and over…i am so deeply grateful and so deeply aware of how blessed i am…love bombs and bath bombs and books and banners all helped me through.  a quick email or text arriving at just the right time…a trip south to visit a mermaid and laugh deeply at catastrophe. (side note: i have a painting that says "Catastrophe is sometimes a good thing."  amen.  So now my job is to find my place in this new world…what is my unique talent to bring to the world?  what is it that I want to do with the rest of my life?  i have a few nudgings, and it really is time to get the party started on them…i am scared and excited.  mostly excited.  and i miss you so very much….

I'm in too good of a place right now. Literally. Let me explain. This room I sleep in...this small-ish cozy corner that's decorated so nicely and has windows on two walls that peek out to the woods...wraps itself around me like a hug.  It's difficult to leave this bed, this room. Have you ever had a room in a house like that? Henry sits on the edge of the bed staring out at the squirrels and chipmunks, willing them to come closer ... Listening to the robins and warblers in the trees and bird houses posted just outside the window.  I've been trying to decorate and paint the big upstairs bedroom, to re-establish myself in the big California king bed. But it just makes me feel uncomfortable to think of it. Maybe I've gotten so used to the Tiny idea, that my head has reset. Who knows. But it makes sense to sleep the summer in the big room, because it has air conditioning. Once summer kicks in full force, I'll be glad for it. I am so grateful for choices. So grateful for my life right this very day. And learning to live a single day at a time...learning to LIVE in that day and not squander the time.  And I thank you for helping me learn. To walk next to me these past forevers and quietly let me go through the crazies and come back. It was reassuring to know that someone held MY golden tether so I wouldn't get too far away. And thank you seems so little.

i wonder how long it will be before my heart stops holding her breath…till a long exhale & relax comes…till crazy KidJoy returns and spontaneousness stays put in the crevasses?  i wonder how long it will be till i can sit.  just sit.  not have to keep busy.  just to keep from thinking or feeling too deeply…to just ping pong a bit.  soon, i think.  soon.  and meanwhile, the busy-ness has led to some fantastic voyages and excursions…some that may lead across an ocean…some in my own backyard.

Alis Volat Propris (She flies with her own wings)

i'm getting closer to actually making art that people can see…that is, art that isn't just in my head.  one of the residual effects of all the chaos of the past year, and the fibro fog, and the Lyme disease is i simply cannot concentrate.  my brain flies like a monkey in a tree, and to sit and make art is not a possible thing right now.  but in my resting moments, boy do i make a gallery full! as i make each room in this house work better for me, i become more at ease…the kitchen has been redone shelf-wise, so that the things i use most are within easy reach - rather than on the tippy top shelf.  i post in quick bursts here, as my attention wanders, but that's also because it's incredibly warm in my studio right now.  as soon as i feel like working for real, i'll get the AC going.  it's frustrating, but i also am recognizing that i've been through some real changes and am likely to take a little time to re-center.  so.  all that being said - time for bed.  more tomorrow.  and if you've been promised some chocolate chocolate german chocolate caramel bars - i finally figured out how to ship them, and they'll be heading to you!  they kept getting melty and squished.

Tiny Step redux

so it occurred to me…what if the Tiny Step Initiative was about a whole Big New?  what if it wasn't about a Tiny House at all, but a trick to get me to move move and move forward?  ah ha…..so the TSI begins again where it left off.  and boy do i have some ideas!

yes - you.

and i thank you for traveling this journey with me…holding my hand, holding me up, holding me in sacred & sweet thoughts and prayers.  I feel like i've popped above the surface for air…gasping life back into my lungs…smiling again and laughing so hard at things that tears roll down my cheeks - different tears.  some more things i've learned:  not to be ashamed of tears, not to try to staunch them - but encourage them to freely flow…that it's really okay to let someone cry…to just be there with them and let them bawl, without having to fix it - just let them have their time…honor it, acknowledge it, and just make that little noise that Kim makes (sort of a mmmmm sound).  in the past 6 months, i have cried so hard and so long, i wondered if i might turn to dust and disappear, having leaked all the moisture from my body.  my heart felt like dust, of that you can be certain.  and those tears ran with the accompaniment of a howling, gut wrenching sound-gurgle-strangled noise that would just not be contained inside.  nice visual, no?  there were long days when the only way i could work was to remember this video that my brother sent me:

but now, i feel my girl power coming back.  i feel re-centered and re-ready to take on whatever's next.  i say that with one eye closed, you should know, because i am now very careful what i wish for.  lottery is one thing i wish for with no thought to consequence.
so because it is Africa hot in my studio right now - being too cheap to turn on the AC up here - and because Henry is having a throwdown with some animal on TV, i'm going to say good night, and thank you again.  i am now ready to carry your burden, should you need me to.  it's only fair.

i still cry.  nightly.  not as hard.  not as long.  but something always seems to set me off…tonight it was the missing nightstand.  he had asked if he could take it, and i said yes.  he came over while i was at work. and now just dust bunnies and some books are left piled up where it stood by his side of the bed.  a bed i had left a few years before.  that fact doesn't escape me.  be careful what you wish for.  had i known that this emotional upheaval was part of the bargain, i would have wished differently.  but, it's done.  at least the part that has paragraphs and wherefores and parties of the first part.  the rest, the matter of retraining my heart, well i suspect will take some time.  last year at this time, i was planning a garden and a trip to Texas and beekeeping and vigorous walks.  a year later, i am taking things much slower and gentler and quieter.  trying to grab a ray of laughter with both hands and squeeze it through the crack in the cave wall to scatter the darkness.  it's not all tears though.  not like a few months ago when the thought of lifting my head from the pillow was unthinkable…when i felt i was being assaulted by the very breath that came into my lungs…and through all this dis-ease, i felt 100% certainty that it was necessary for some cosmic reason yet to appear…that i am now to hold the hand of the one behind me…to lift the next in line, just as the ones before me held me and absolutely and fiercely refused to let me stumble or fail.  and i will do the same. for you.  for anyone sent to my path.  even as i am just learning to walk again, i will spend time on my knees with you, crawling with you, until you can stand again…and reach behind you for the next one in line.  sent to your path.

it's been hard.  but easier. i'm living hour by hour. I got a gazebo for mother's day, and last night's Girls Gazebo Gathering was just perfect.  this morning brought tears of loneliness.  my soon-to-be ex bought me a new lawn mower…one that starts with the push of a button, and walks by itself.  the old one being too difficult for me to start with the pull starter thing. he had stopped by to pick up a few more things, and saw I had mowed with the new mower, and began explaining how he mulches in the fall and in the spring there are things i should do to keep the lawn healthy.  it was just.so.sad. i feel deeply bad for him, working to buy this house, and now having to walk away from it.  the second time in his life. yes, i started bawling.  over mulch.  and mowers. ugly crying.  me in my car, him in his, in the driveway. suddenly the care of the house seemed to loom insurmountable…the care of my heart seemed unattainable.  then i had to just put one foot in front of the other.  minute by minute.  okay start the car, now reverse, now forward, blinker on, where was I headed before the whole mulch thing came up?  yes - this was his choice.  yes, after the first one, you wonder if there isn't something that needs changing.  but still.  although it was not a great marriage, and although i mostly saw his failings throughout the past 15 years, glimmers and hot pokers stab at me as i realize anew my role in this mess.
so where it stands now - i am less stressed out.  i am terrified.  i am content.  i am lonely. i am hoping to continue becoming my self. i will.
Henry has become a handful, though. he doesn't understand where his man went, i'm sure.  we walk, and he lunges at other dogs, snarling and squealing.  he's bit me twice accidentally, as his teeth snap at the air.  this isn't my Henry.  Today a friend joined me for brunch, and i took her on a walk through my trails.  as we walked to the end of the street, it sounded like someone was torturing poor Henry…his fears at being apart from me - something new. neighbors stopped and looked down the street.  grateful i don't live in an apartment, after all.  my feet still aren't under me, but i'm grateful to have a direction to walk in.  grateful to know the set of challenges i'm to face and conquer.
i've learned so much in the past year…mostly that it's okay to lean on others - that it won't hurt!  that it doesn't mean that i won't rise strong again, but that it feels good to receive.  thank you.  i'm grateful for the lessons, and want to use them somehow to shine a light for others.  that's to come.

saturday 2-fer

I have this verse from a song that's spun in my head for years…i even made an assemblage piece for a friend based on it...

I've been scraping little shavings

off my ration of light

and i've formed it into a ball

and each time i pack a bit more onto it

and i make a bowl of my hands and

I scoop it from it's secret cache

under a loose board in the floor

and i blow across it and i send it to you

against those moments when the darkness

blows under your door.

Isn't that what friends are for?

It's by Bruce Cockburn…seems to be a Bruce morning.  is it still morning?  anyway.  i spent some time looking back through old blog posts…reaaalll old ones.  in the beginning ones. but not the first one.  i still can't. 

and i wonder if i'll ever be able to smell autumn on the breeze and feel it give life to my being ever again…so many gentle & wonderful moments that take centering and concentration and awareness to notice and enjoy...this "process" has tried in so many ways to steal my heart.  it has been a battle to stay true to myself…to stay centered, and yes - somedays to just get out of bed.  the emotional toll has been devastating, i won't lie…it will take quite a lot to re-become myself, and there are long, dark moments when i wonder if it would even be worth the effort.  like a dog who's been kicked too many times, it finally just gives up it's good nature and takes the path of least resistance…decides that any shoe is a bad shoe…i am not who i was - my faith in prevailing good has been shattered…i feel emotionally curled in, not having the strength to reach out, and feeling selfish and self-centered for not wiping away tears and getting the f* on with the day.  i wonder if the toll this has taken on my body will ever be repaired…even now, i read this post and want to delete it…want to hide the ugly…but i've always been honest here.  and i hope that someone reads this and knows they aren't alone…that they'll look to the left and see someone else's toes at the ledge...that someone else is having the self-same feelings…wondering if they will come out the other side…scared that being witness to the darkest hearts and selfish slobbering of sharpened teeth will have changed them in ways that can't be un-changed…that make them unsuitable for the journey…that will make re-entry just.too.hard.

my friend's little boy was explaining vampires - he was worried that a mosquito bite was from a vampire mosquito, and that he would be turned into one.  he explained that "a vampire bites you, takes your life away, then turns you into one of them, and all you can see is dark dark dark because you can only come out at night. and you're never happy because the stores are closed at night."

I've been bitten.  i resist.  walmart is open 24 hours.  there is hope.  come shop with me.

Sunset is an angel weeping
Holding out a bloody sword
No matter how I squint I cannot
Make out what it's pointing toward
Sometimes you feel like you live too long
Days drip slowly on the page
You catch yourself
Pacing the cage
I've proven who I am so many times
The magnetic strip's worn thin
And each time I was someone else
And every one was taken in
Hours chatter in high places
Stir up eddies in the dust of rage
Set me to pacing the cage
I never knew what you all wanted
So I gave you everything
All that I could pillage
All the spells that I could sing
It's as if the thing were written
In the constitution of the age
Sooner or later you'll wind up
Pacing the cage
Sometimes the best map will not guide you
You can't see what's round the bend
Sometimes the road leads through dark places
Sometimes the darkness is your friend
Today these eyes scan bleached-out land
For the coming of the outbound stage.
Pacing the cage.
-Bruce Cockburn

As my emotions stretch about as tight as I think they possibly can, another rock lands on the fabric stretched taut.  I've been judged by a single action...not a bad or malicious or ill-intended one...but an everyday thing...that was somehow taken offense to...though I don't know how, I honestly don't - even in retrospect...but each is entitled to their feelings for certain...and that one single thing has overshadowed a lifetime friendship...a person I felt so deeply rooted in my heart has decided that this one action, which was so ordinary, so not exclusive to them, has made continuing our friendship impossible. My instinct was to call, to write back, to drive over in my pj's and make it right. But I thought and thought, and could find no reasonable reason for this reaction. None. And I think that if I ever ripped my friendship away from someone over one blip that wasn't even a blip, that I wouldn't deserve that friend in the first place. We are all human. All of us. And we are a continuum...a timeline of good & bad & ups & downs. We have our ecstatic heroic moments, and our failings. It is how we are, we humans. And I have learned there are no black and white, clap on clap off moments in a friendship...a person does not change with a snap...they are inherently good or bad, and their actions in totality should be seen through that lens. So if it appears that they've done something that pissed you off, ask: are they normally thoughtless? If not, then the problem is either an error of judgement, or perhaps the problem is within your own heart - a lesson scratching to be let out, or a jealousy that's best redirected at another.  To the one that now has her back turned, I wish you peace. For this action is sure to cause you more turbulence than it will me. I am grieving our friendship. You were the last person I'd expect this from, having tread these steps before me. I am unable to live up to your expectations, so perhaps it is best, after all.

Some days it helps to stay manically busy...just do-si-do from one activity to another, and before you know it, it's bedtime.  And some days you crawl into fresh, clean, sweet smelling sheets and try to figure out what you're forgetting, and you realize...as the silence buzzes in your ears so loud...you realize that there is no one to say goodnight to.  And even though there hadn't been an echoing Good Night in a very long time, at least there was another human under the roof...someone who you thought you could trust with your bad behavior and good laughs...who had promised to see this ride through...and even though you had long since given up on having a dance partner -someone in step with you - it was still a bit of comfort some nights to hear Good Night, however grudgingly, as you went to your opposite corners of the house. Some days it helps.  Some days...not so much.

hello?  Are you still there?  yes, i know you are…your notes and cards have sustained me.  now it's time to get the roar on, thanks to your hands holding me up.
Last weekend, i spent a day in the company of 150 women.  in the woods.  freezing our hind-portions nearly off.  and having A Blast. (literally, in some cases!)  It was a Women In Nature workshop day.  4 sessions, with over 50 classes to choose from.  all supplies, food, coffee, etc etc included. free. I learned how to clean a gun, the difference between shotguns, rifles, and 1000 other fun facts minutiae about the  two, plus handguns.  oh and gun safety.  I learned campfire cooking, and skeet shooting.  but my favorite was Map & Compass - Orienteering.  i don't know why, but it just ignited in me.  maybe because my path has been so confused lately :)  I stopped and bought a compass on the way home, and signed up for an upcoming orienteering event. The woman who taught it was amazing and funny, and time was up far too quickly.  it was a day spent in the moments, and that was a great time to catch my breath & bearings.  more on all the personal happenings later, but in this open forum, i will say simply that your prayers and good thoughts have mattered so so much.  I look around my almost-empty studio and get teary, but also feel like a great weight has been lifted from my feet.
my apologies for not updating here more often, but soon there will be a flood & torrent, so thank you for your patience till then!  and now - time to take my fuzzy 4-legged heart-stealer for an epic walk.