Today: I love, therefore I am...

Hi.  Been a while.  So the smartypants expectation that I would and could sustain a daily sober counter accompanied by some prosaic wisdom or poetic weaving has been proven wrong.  Once again, I have proven that my words can very easily outweigh my actions.

Oh well.  Shit happens.

I could get all "oh, the sorrow of it all..." or "oh, poor Sheldon let himself down again..." or even use it as an excuse to imagine myself a failure and keep on keepin' on in a downward direction until I have taken a final pull on the devil's dick and this unbelievably strong heart just rolls over in exasperation and quietly says "Ekosi maka."

Strong heart indeed.  The things I have done, the things I have seen, the things I have put myself through.  <sigh>  Oh my.

I yearn today, this moment, to be kind to myself.  Looking outside, the blue sky, the green grass, the ringing sound of children's voices:  These are the things I would long for when I was at the end of yet another rope.

Or these were the things I chose to ignore when I was en route for another score, from my dark, lonely hiding place in the bush in a beeline to the inner city, then scurrying back to my hole - truck on fumes, smoking cigarette butts from my ashtray, picking up and tasting sesame seeds, snot particles or styrofoam from the carpet of the Chev, checking to see if they were more of that bogus, smelly rock that's being passed off as crack...  Nice...  way to cherish the universe and spread the love Mr. Hughes.

Well, I am here, I am clean and I will write when I am able, inspired, feeling too much, wanting to share... et cetera, et cetera.

I don't need any more pressure in my life to expect to sit down and carve out an hour each day to wax on and on, shedding light on the trainwreck that I had been trying to live and call a life.  It's only part of the story anyways.

I won't show you all my scars, all my fears... I won't tell you all the hardwired action stories or all of the sad, painful or insipid truths.  This is not a barometer from which you can gauge all that I am or all that I want to be.

This blog was started because I thought having a thousand eyes (or even twenty) on me would help keep me accountable, help keep me home.

Wrong.

It is the love that I feel and allow to flow through me that keeps me here, keeps me from calling all the dealers that pretend to be my friends and then sell me horse tranquilizer laced bullshit, or some concoction that tastes like transmission fluid and rubber gloves mixed together.  Death in a baggie.

Bleah.

Life is a blessed event that is ever transformative, ever fluid and dancing, and can be missed if you blink.

Today, God willing, I will not blink.  I will not avert my gaze from that which is real, true and suffused with love and light.

Today I will live and walk with Creator as my guide. Today I will hold hands with a big, juicy family who loves their daddy/hubby and we will allow our steps to be guided by a Heritage Festival food map!

Bring on the sheepkebabs!

hearts and smooches,
S.