There's something to say about being alone. I find comfort in myself. Not in an idea of myself, but my being; my breathing, my touch, the way my body moves, and how good it feels to smile and drink water; how good it feels to sprawl out on the bed at night, turn up the music and dance, how healing it feels to paint or write, or practice yoga.

From this comfort comes my power to love to myself.

I have been working in the garden alone, cradling the little lettuces, and gently placing them into their new home in this bed I made for them. I have found comfort in the unforgiving, rocky soil, the unrelenting rain, followed by the endless, humid, sunny days.

From this comfort comes my power to care for myself.

I have given you my power.

I am taking it back. I have leaned on you, expected of you, and looked to you for my comfort and my happiness. I know what makes me happy; putting my hands into the soft soil, stretching my body, eating vegetables from the garden, being grateful...

But this change may throw this quiet love off balance. You will hold someone else in your arms, and then I will push you away, because I am afraid of losing my power. I can only love you when I have taken the time to love myself. I can only let you be close to me, when I have told myself that I am worthy.
I am worthy.
I am worthy.

every moment we are alive we are creating the world we want to live in.
we can blame our sadness on other people,
we can blame our anger on the noise,
but where does it lead us?
we can stop, and breathe, and listen to our bodies,
and see what is happening,
and whatever we want to happen,
we can make it happen from inside ourselves.
we are free.
we are free.
we are free.

bolting lettuce

a dream

People smiling and laughing,
wearing clean clothes,
talking in words I don't understand.
My lover sits with his other lover,
my stomach turns,
and my eyes hold back tears.

I don't feel at home there.

She gets up to hug me,
but I don't want to hug her.
I don't want to hug her,
but I don't want to turn her away.

It seems like pain follows me.
I don't feel at home here.
Where can I feel at home?
Will I create it in myself?
Or should I be searching for it?

learning to make clothing. The pocket on the side wasn't meant to be crooked.

you know those shapes you see when you close your eyes?