Musician and Activist devoted to Justice, Creativity, and Courage

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Murder of a Dream, and Reincarnation of Courage – a reading from A Testament of Hope, writings of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. “A Eulogy for Martyred Children”

On this day a man was born who would change things.  A match when struck that lit the whole world with courage.  That courage could dwindle when we look and see who sits in some seats of power these days.  That courage could seem to have been lost when we look around and see hunger still perpetuating in our neighborhoods, when merely the cold can kill people – much less the deadly assault weapons the NRA pays so dearly to hold onto.  That courage still however, resides.  En masse.  That you can see in the hearts of those who march, more and more and more in the latest of years.  Marches and protests and rallies and sit-ins and phone calls and letters and inundations of people waking up to the need for a participatory democracy.  The need for them to speak up for themselves.  No one else is going to do it for you.  We may differ in our approach to ideal leadership; however we do not disagree that everyone should eat and live and prosper in a way one sees fit.  Where poverty doesn’t damper someones passion for life.  Where race does not determine whether or not you get a job.  Where sex doesn’t determine whether or not you will succeed at being… an actress… a truck driver… a political leader.

We all have dreams and should have equal access to making those dreams happen and in order to make this a reality, we must have courage.  I remember the legacy of DrMLK today as a person (of many) who went above and beyond merely what he alone could do, and fought for what WE could do, together, with others and for ourselves.  While mountains of oppression are inevitable to fail, we have to know that to take the first steps toward liberation means we must see ourselves as worthy.  Those steps are more than voting.  More than praying.  More than hope.  They are filled with inertia, gratitude, forgiveness, giving, compassion, dedication, discipline, and pro-active love.

Live today for today.  But live tomorrow for the good of humanity and the only planet we’ll ever get.


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1/1/18 full Moon on New Years day

I am not special, but I am unique

A blessing, still a child in so many ways

Stuck because of forgetting where the exits are,

Where’s that damned fire marshal?

I am my own Compass

And I must remember the exits are an illusion just as much as the ground beneath me.

This child still feels the cold

The hunger and the hold of alien hands.

This child still knows alone as if it were her only kin.

This woman is learning what fills her cup and how to hold it in the rain for water and how to hold it in the fire for sustenance.

This woman is breathing in the tools of remembrance, one step at a time.

One moment to the very next,

one owl hoot to the next sweeping call of the crow from above.

The love is real



Remember it.

It is older than you

Older than us

Older than we can know

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What Comes When You Call

Last night, I was feeling some feels.  As I went outside to see the Moon, as per my grandmother’s phone call (we (my Grandparents and I) always call each other to see the Moon) I felt the feeling of the ever elusive inspiration.  Here are the words:

“Pick up the pen, for it does not rest when it lies still, you must catch it for the muse to wake and stay without dreams, in and from your hand, merely the vehicle.” – Me last night.  #WhatComesWhenYouCall  You = The Moon = Me


Yesterday, I realized that my cellular memories are triggered by drinking.  It lasts for days.  Until I can grasp ahold of my moment-to-moment consciousness (and I realize that is a process, not a destination), I really shouldn’t imbibe.  I’ve had dreams I’d like not to have, dreams that have me making up with someone who it wouldn’t be healthy to even see or talk to, much less make up with.  These dreams and feelings are inspired by a couple of glasses of wine here, one glass there.  I quit drinking altogether for about 3-4 weeks and then Thanksgiving had two glasses of wine.  Then two glasses the following Tuesday, one on Wednesday, THREE on Saturday night and then another one Sunday.  I’m counting because it counts.  For me.  Codependent behaviors are only amplified with alcohol.  Codependent thought patterns are given a megaphone inside my mind when I’ve been drinking, if only occasionally.  So again, I shall abstain.  Recovery from complex PTSD and depression and being able to actually know, familiarize myself, and sit with my feelings is a tall order!  I had a very hard week last week, emotionally and very very busy with work and outside stressors.  I didn’t even realize that I needed time to process all that; it was all just GO GO GO! BRUSH IT OFF!!  Lesson: slow down, realize when you’re on a hamster wheel and when you need to get off. Last night’s Moon helped me to step off and feel the feelings.  Yesterday’s EMDR session catalyzed the awareness that I’d impulsively been masking some significant sadness with booze.  I did a hard thing last week, I need to sit with that.  Thank you Universe for helping me see.  Much gratitude to my friends who I know are there even when I don’t call or talk about this stuff…

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Stirred to write, lots of links today

I’m seething with caffeine, homemade coconut yogurt, and a shot of coconut water because I thought I was losing it.  Turns out, I’m just hungry.  Still having trouble remembering to eat breakfast BEFORE coffee, but this morning at least I got up and stretched! 😉

I’m compelled to write right now because I feel as if I’ve turned a corner.  Since last I wrote, I have continued with my EMDR and Cognitive-Behavioral therapy, successfully to the point that at times I feel that I’m seeing the other side of the tunnel and understanding how I got on this hamster wheel to begin with, and (most importantly) how to get off.  (ha. ha..)

The lessons learned in the past 6 months are jarring, inspiring, gratifying, and surprising.  I have felt my way around in the dark, feeling kinda crazy for a long time, when, as it turns out, I had a head-lamp on the whole time and just didn’t know it.  I was searching for how to find the light from outside me, “Where’s the fucking light switch man?!” When, over the course of a few years, some heartache, loss, and real-true lessons, I have activated Something inside me that is beaming light from within.  I hear Cat Stevens in my head right now “Trouble…. oh trouble please be kind…” then Harold drives his car off a cliff, realizing, and we’re all surprised in the end, that he’s abandoned his death-hearse-Jaguar and turned to the soothing memory of an old woman and his newfound banjo of life.

Here I am – some days are harder than others, but my turnaround time now has lessened into manageable chunks vs. hours of agony and remorse for something that I had no control over and was trying my damnedest to control.  Here’s a quote I was given two Decembers ago, as I was headed down deep South to spend a couple weeks on a Christmas Tree Lot, “If you are willing to look at a another person’s behavior towards you as a reflection of the state of their relationship with themselves rather than a statement about your value as a person, then you will, over a period of time, cease to react at all.”  – Yogi Bhajan.   Yesterday, I reacted, I got all torn apart, but here’s the victory: I climbed up out of the well,  fingernails still intact, breathed a sigh of relief when I reached the top and sat there, swinging my feet on the sides, deciding what path to take from there.  Six months ago I would have jumped back down into that deep, dark well and wondered why I hadn’t figured out how to swim yet; yesterday I stood up and walked away with my banjo. *deafening applause*

This is what steps to victory feel like.  This is what all the steps will be, with intention from now on.  This is not to say that I will not backslide from time to time, but I seriously am beginning to trust that there is a larger, more powerful force reckoning on a scale I can barely comprehend, and on my behalf.  On your behalf.  I cannot control it, but I can pay attention.  I can love myself for the flawed, passionate, driven, and capable person I am; I can take the reigns and let my tiny-Self know that I am not going to abandon her or let anyone ever do that again, as long as I’m in charge.  I get to choose whether or not someone can hurt me.  I get to choose how I respond, not how I react.  With that right-now-intention.  Right now, I choose NOT to respond, and that is my path.

For all the vague as hell shit in here, just know that mostly this blog is for me and trust that it is exactly what I need to say right now.  xoxo  Still learning, my pain is my teacher and my strength.  My pain is my teacher and my strength.  My pain is my teacher and my strength. (Write that 70 times on the blackboard.)

updated dream version student of life
(photo from Photo site – not related to my post but this picture literally looks exactly like a recurring dream I used to have except I was in a long white nightgown and about 7 years old. I was also running through a forest with a bunch of ravines, I was jumping, then sailing and flying over them running and running and running away. I love this picture.  Much more updated version of how I feel right now and goes swimmingly with my blackboard reference.)


Well, if you want to sing out, sing out
And if you want to be free, be free
‘Cause there’s a million things to be
You know that there are… – Cat Stevens