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Showing posts from January, 2018

neither here nor there

My first night staying in the new house, with tender hearts Luna and I climbed into bed amidst a stack of books that felt like comfort and familiar old friends. I asked for a sign, an oracle that would tell me everything would be okay, and this is what I found when I chose a book from the pile and opened it to a random page ( thank you for this blessing ,  Christine ). Mostly I cried more than I slept, missing my kids, missing my old life in a way that can best be described as the grief of death. I'm still in the dying it seems, neither here nor there. My house feels so unfamiliar and big and empty, and so far from Home. Not having moved in over a decade, I'd forgotten how a place has so many nuances of character, its smells and sounds and even how the light and warmth gather differently from one room to the next. Having two bathrooms feels disorienting. The windows still have no blinds. I can't decide which lights to leave on or off. Yesterday, I filled the fridge

leaving to arrive

Yesterday I signed the lease on my new space. I can't tell you how long and arduous this process has been, both in the actual administration of apartment hunting on top of the wildly emotional ups and downs of leaving to arrive. It's taken five months of searching, twenty-five open houses, several applications, two heartbreaking rejections, and one angel realtor who eventually made my house dreams come true. Honestly, I wasn't even looking for a house. Through this whole process I was trying to fit my whole life inside of apartments, budgets and floorpans that were honestly too small, stacking up the kids, sacrificing a creative space, even contemplating leaving Luna behind so I could just land somewhere half-way decent. Part of it was I wasn't being fully honest with myself with what I truly needed. To say I needed a 3 bedroom house with a studio and washer and dryer and a back yard and a bathtub, felt like way too much ask for. But every step urged me to think a

the fly in the bottle

It was about a month or two ago when I really began longing for Under A Pink Sky and to return to regular blogging. What reminded me was, even after so many years since that first virtual home someone sent me a photo of a pink sky and said how they still always connect them to me. It felt like an anchor to a part of myself that I had forgotten, yet sorely needed, during this time of wild transition and uncertainty in my life. Pink skies are my unwavering faith in beauty, possibility, mystery and a love that runs infinitely deep and true. I just never knew that way back when. I understand this faith so clearly now. But inside the longing I was getting stuck around how to "brand" the old blog into my newer life, thinking about all the 'shoulds ' around creative cohesion and consistency. I finally realized that what I most needed was to just embrace the spark of desire, pure and simple, because it's the thing that is actually real ( yes! ), not a judgement


As you walk away, think of all the joy we shared If you decide you need me, I'll be wondering if I care Not there to soothe your soul, friend to tender friend I think our love is coming to an end. Soul and Fire ~ Sebedoh Even now, more than halfway through the mediation process, it is so hard to believe my marriage is actually ending. I wake up some nights in a blind panic feeling like, "what the hell am I doing?"  along with the sinking dreadful thought that I might be making the biggest mistake of my life. How did we get here? It's a question I've asked myself a million times. He gave me this album to listen to on one of our very first dates. This, and a short stack of what I now know to be a pretty achingly honest musical anthology of his heart. There was Lois, and The Modern Lovers, and The Smiths, and Morphine, and Small Factory. The songs felt exotic and wild to my Top 20 pop music listening ears. He felt like the whole unknown world at my

what I'm leaving behind

What I'm leaving behind... I've lived in this house by the sea for the last ten-plus years. Last spring I could begin to feel the tug that is was almost time to leave. I didn't know how or why, but I just knew in my bones that my time here was almost up and that all the lessons I was meant to learn under this roof, alongside the rhythm of the twice daily tides, were close to complete. Honestly, I thought we'd be moving as a family. We will be moving as a family, but just not in the same way I thought. A wise Buddhist friend once told me that our outer world is a direct, physical manifestation of our inner world. While the view is sublime, the actual structure of this late 1800's cottage is held together and shored up by shims and tape and rags. Windows are starting to go. The electrical needs serious work. Everything is jerry-rigged and aching for an update. The biggest problem has been a persistent leak in the roof that we've been chasing since we mov