Thursday, December 12, 2013

Honoring Her Story

I have this Grandmother,
who is a bit crazy
and she drives people
a bit crazy
but upon seeking a more
compassionate life
I have come to see
she has a story
and in this story
she is actually a hero

She grew up during the depression
to a crazy alcoholic father
suffering the after affects of
World War I
with a mother married
to an alcoholic man

There is no telling
what went on in that home

I am convinced that my Grandmother
was born mentally defective
so for a person born with that challenge
in the first place
the things that befell her
would be difficult
even for a mentally healthy person

She went from this alcoholic home
to marry an alcoholic husband

She lost 3 babies, one of them stillborn
Her mother had a stroke
Her sisters, mother, and father died before her
she is the only one left

then my Grandfather who got sober later in life
who she loved, died before her

yet through her mental handicaps
she still functions,
even if on a
mentally challenged level
that has a tendency to test patience
she still loves

But she is a hero
even the strongest
with her life stories
would surely have
lost their marbles by now

She is a hero
and when it is her time
I shall be happy for her
that she will get to go home
to God and my Grandpa
and see everyone who left
before her.

And she can be done then.
Because she did lots and lots
of hard stuff in this life.


Friday, November 15, 2013

Working Through The Energy

The energy feels intense lately, especially the last few days.
I have legitimate reason to feel irritable, out of sync
and emotional with situations going on in my life. But
the emotions and irritability in my body have become
almost unbearable. I am working with the feelings, emotions,
insights, trying to sort my way through the intensity to
a place of peace, deep deep insight, and tranquility.
To find a place where it all makes sense. These things
have come up in my life, because I have some past and present
work to do, that depends on my future. If I do not do the work
now~it WILL continue, and I will have to do it later.

Here is a passage from a blog I found~ The Golden Age Of Truth.
I have been intuitively feeling that comet ISON, the resent solar
activity is having an intense affect on everyone. So I really like
how she explains it and her insights into it.

"Do you often think about the effects of the stars around you? the Moon and the Planets? Well, as an aspiring student of the Greater Mysteries…certainly I need to explore just how these Divine Intelligences effect mankind…and effect how we are developing over the weeks, months and years. This week is a relatively calm in the beginning, in that you are thinking, reflecting, likely daydreaming, and probably not motoring along very quickly in any particular direction because you are a lot in the “head”. The time you are spending this week doing all this thinking and reflecting and musing upon your life experiences, will prove to be very valuable to you and you are not to discount ideas, inspirations and plans that do come to your mind. Make note of them.

We will be drawn into the effects of the Full moon once again fully on Friday, so you will start to notice this by about Wednesday when there will be various irritations and interferences that are seeking to disturb you and your desire to “do your own thing”. Make sure you check out just what these disturbances are…if they are coming from a loved one, family member, child, friend or colleague…pay attention. You have made some very important commitments to these people (Souls) that you have incarnated with for this lifetime and they may be needing you to fulfill that commitment now. If you ignore their pleas, calls, or the way they are just plain “bugging you”…then you are only putting off the inevitable fulfillment of your agreement. Make sure you take a 2nd look at just what these people mean to you in your life….regardless of their level of spiritual awakening or conscious state. What do you mean to them? What do they mean to you?

Here’s an example…I had a vision of what I had promised, prior to incarnating, to do to help my youngest son (his soul mandate) for this life time. He is now an adult. It would be very spiritually unlawful for me to not stand behind my word to this Soul. Just a thought….maybe it will trigger some memory in you too?

So…go smoothly this week….no need to get upset or annoyed…put aside distinct time for yourself..and for helping others…it will then all work out nicely!

In Light and in Peace,


P.S. The Comet ISON is already effecting you as it moves in closer causing different vibrations in our Solar system…more on that next week…."

I especially like the paragraph I bolded where she talks about "You have made some very important commitments to these people (Souls) that you have incarnated with for this lifetime and they may be needing you to fulfill that commitment now. If you ignore their pleas, calls, or the way they are just plain “bugging you”…then you are only putting off the inevitable fulfillment of your agreement. Make sure you take a 2nd look at just what these people mean to you in your life….regardless of their level of spiritual awakening or conscious state. What do you mean to them? What do they mean to you?" I will be doing this. I beleive in soul contracts and commitments. I would like to honor my universal heart love to them, go deep and listen to what I need to do, to remember, and honor as the precious soul and souls I have been put together with. This would mean setting aside pride, jealousy, want for control, wanting to punish, and regardless of that souls level of enlightenment or path at the moment, there is still an agreement, a commitment, and most importantly....LOVE.


Sunday, October 27, 2013

Frankie & Johnny

I really relate to Frankie in this movie. She said everything I ever wanted to say
about these things,,,,,but couldn't.

I still have a scar on my arm. A small faint one from when I was a teenager, in love with
a crazy abusive man. You think it would go away. But maybe it stays there to remind me.
I had a dream last night that I showed it to someone.
It was made with a knife a friend gave me to protect myself for the next time I got beat.
Instead, the abusive man took it from, and used it against me. Thus the scar.
It was a beautiful knife. Silver, with a silver sheath embossed with deer.

I see now, looking back on my past, all the times, the few, that I was alone.
I really wanted to be, equally wanting to be with someone too.
Like Frankie.

Frankie also asked Johnny why everyone always assumes that when a woman is messed up,
that they think it was from something that happened to her when she was a girl.
She said that you can get damaged as a woman too.


Tuesday, October 22, 2013

October 22nd

Today is my wedding Anniversary. I have been divorced for over a decade. On years past, I would look on this day with sadness and regret. But as I sat on the patio this morning, drinking my coffee and smoking my cigarette, contemplating, I realized how different I feel about it this year. It’s not about him, or the wedding, or the divorce. It’s about the day. It was one of the best days of my life.

I was a broken girl just a short time before I met him and he proposed. Shy of a year out of rehab and sober from a terrible ordeal of drug addiction, physical abuse, and wandering without a home for a few months. I met him as I began to rebuild my life. And that day signified a coming out of sorts. A delayed Quincearnera, a Batmitzvah, and a right of passage. A day that said I was safe in beautiful world again.

It was about family. We were all together. That is what I remember most now. How everyone was supportive even though they may have had their doubts. My twin brother crying as I walked up the Aisle, the picture we all took with our family dog Rudy in the house we mostly grew up in, my older sister my maid of honor who pulled my underwear out of my butt cause I couldn’t reach around my wedding dress. My other sister who brought me tea that morning as I sat smoking in my Snoopy nighty nervous as hell.

They all accommodated me even if they knew I may not have had the clearest picture of what I was about to do. They made the day so special.

The ceremony was in an old little chapel in the foothills of the mountains. The Chapel of The Wildwood. Everybody came, even my mom’s aunt and uncle, Uncle Dewey who sang, “Let Me Call You Sweetheart.” My aunt, cousin, my grandfather who made it even though he was sick.

The reception took place in an old winery mansion. My father gave me a fairy tale wedding. That is what is important. I will never need a fairy tale wedding again, because he gave me one. I remember riding to the ceremony with him in my grandfather’s old Cadillac, and on the way I remembered the story my mother told about her wedding day when my grandfather drove her to the church and told her she didn’t have to do this if she didn’t want to, that they could go to Florida instead.

I forgot my bouquet. That was one of my regrets, because my dad had to go back and get it. As I walked down the Aisle, and saw everyone I love around me and in front of me, I was the once broken girl living a princess day. It was beautiful.

Towards the end of the reception, me, him, and my mom and dad gathered in a circle as Forever Young played. It was an important moment. A moment of love, of them letting go, of them being able to breath knowing I was better and that I was safe.

I will never forget what they all did for me that day. And what a fun wonderful time it was. I will remember it until the day I die, on this day, October 22nd, and then some.


Tuesday, October 1, 2013

None of us likes change, do we?
No matter how uncomfortable we are
in our current situation, the prospect of
change is feared as even more uncomfortable,
and unknown and a new discomfort.
We might be forced to suffer a temporary
upheaval of our beliefs, our routines
what we know as familiar and what
we know we can expect everyday.

Against the current popular voice,
even against my past beliefs,
I will say that I believe that what we
are going through is a paradigm shift
as a country. I have always felt
we worked too many hours, we have a
skewed idea of what is really important
in life.

I have read in many books about this moment,
that the old energy will die, but it will go
kicking and screaming. And it is going
kicking and screaming along with the rest of us.

Will we loose our jobs? Will our hours get cut?
Will we end up going through a dark period
of the unknown? Temporary struggle and
doing without some luxuries, maybe even
some necessities, to come out into a new world
that is governed by a new energy that no longer
caters to the few, but to the many?

We will see. But I really do believe this
is a paradigm shift, and it’s time for
the wrinkly old rich men who are greedy
and self serving to move out of the house,
and for the next generation who care
about the good of the whole
to move in.
And we all know....moving sucks.
But do we really want to stay
in the house we have been
living in forever?


Thursday, September 5, 2013

The Bunk House

Halfway through my life I came to stay a while on my parents ranch, in a small bunk house to sort some things out. I wrote a lot during that time.

April 16th, 2012
Monday In The Bunk House

this place is oddly
becoming more of
a home
the rooms
into one another
the staircase
begins to feel
like mine
like it belongs to me and
is becoming
part of me somehow
maybe this
is how it feels when your heart changes
you begin to navigate
the chambers
as you would rooms
and it becomes more
yours with each day.

I see now. I was living
in a dammed comfortable

and maybe through
the trees and animals
and wilderness
through the
and aloneness
I am becoming
like Walden
or Emerson
perhaps I was
born to be
a hermit.

April 17th
Tuesday In The Bunkhouse

Racing against daylight
to reach home
whatever home is
before the creatures
come out
blood pumping
through my veins
fear in my heart
"don't think,
just don't think
about how unreal
this feels right
now," I tell myself.

And there are braver
souls than I
out for an evening
With wives and
dogs and
even a child
in a wagon~
they have no fear
why do I
Maybe I am not
afraid of the
maybe I am
afraid of being
eaten alive
from something else
from the inside
by my own fear.

Things get hard, then things get easier.
I change my mind and try to change
my attitude a million times during the day.
Nights are at first about survival, from the noises
outside~ the sound of the beat of my own heart, the loneliness
and then I settle in with lights on, covers piled on bed
and book about a lonely girl running from something,
called Safe Haven. Very appropriate.
I am the Kerouac of the forest.
The Florence of Nightengale with my belly freshly full
of red velvet pancakes, thinking I will not eat tomorrow.
And I think that must be how the fictitious mountain lion
I am so afraid of feels after he eats.
And so doesn't want me~ doesn't want me at all.
April 19th
Thursday In The Bunk House

I will recall my spirit
here in the dark woods
it will come to full
to guide me home
with my little companion
who waits patiently
for me
I will brave the wild
a metaphor
for my soul
to find the treasure
uncover it
and spend it
out in the
my world
I have not done
I will buy love,
peace, serenity
good fortune
pays off
the hanged man
that everything
will be ok.

April 26th
Thursday In The Bunk House

There was a time
when I stopped
being afraid
even though the
lion would pass by
my house in the
He was simply
passing by
on his way
somewhere else
and was not coming
for me.
Just simply doing
what lions do in
the wild.

And maybe my aura
glows and says
not here
my friend
not this one
simply observe
and walk on.

~Jenny Miller

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

dear God,
Can I just rest here a while
do you want me here? I ask
Am I uncomfortable with making change
because it’s not time?
My life is peaceful
has a soft rhythm
a home filled with love
I still look at him after all this time
and wonder how
in the turmoil that was my life then
did I meet him
he is good to me.
My family surrounding
in familiarity
and comfort
staying up late to read oh so good books
night time showers
crawling into bed clean
waking to coffee and cats
work won with well deserved rest
rest won with work
today I have some semblance of peace
because that’s just what that is
it’s today, not yesterday, not tomorrow
today that I have all this
Can I just rest here for a while?
Would that be ok?


Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Earth From Far Away

are we so small to you
just a brilliant blue star
you have always wondered about
our civilization
a mystery
just a blue shining star
you have always wondered about
and here we are
all of our trials
dissolved away
in your eyes
as we are here
on this beautiful
bright star
you have always
wondered about


Thursday, July 25, 2013

I hesitate to make posts like this. Because I am afraid that the thoughts, feelings, sentiments will fade, and I will just go back to feeling bad again, allowing bad thinking to run rampant in my head. Or that those I know will read this, and my actions won’t match, and people will think I am full of shit. But we all go through this don’t we, when we have epiphanies, when we have a growth spurt. The main thing is that these coming to’s are always there, DEEP within my SOUL. I think it is a sign of spiritual maturity to realize, that it does not mean everything is fixed now and we will be perfect and behave from now on, but, that we may forget many times, still be an asshole sometimes, and fail miserably at trying to put good principles into daily practice in our relationships with ourselves, the world, and those we love.

As usual, I had found myself very angry and resentful inside over some things lately. Apparently, it had gotten so uncomfortable, I needed to get uncomfortable, that there was no further to go except to change. To remember before I go to sleep to pray and attempt contact with God. So I have been doing that, to the best of my ability. It’s no fun to be an asshole when you know you are being an asshole, sure, maybe at first there is some satisfaction in it, especially if you are used to going with the flow and being a people pleasure, but then it starts to feel hard and cold and all icky in your insides, and you start wondering in all your interactions if everyone knows your real asshole thoughts and feelings.

So thank God, when just watching TV yesterday, minding my own business, I was suddenly reminded for no reason what so ever, that everyone likes to be treated nice, and I need to treat people how I want to be treated. I want to be understood, I want compassion, I want tolerance, I want people to patiently wait and understand more deeply the real issues if I am temporarily being delusional, or being an asshole. So that’s how I need to treat other people. Nothing new of course, every religion and philosophy teaches this, but so easily forgotten.

It makes feeling warm and fuzzy for people on the inside a reality, not just struggled for or feigned, but a real heartfelt reality. It make interactions with people more meaningful and important. It generates love in the world.

Nothing is a big deal
Treat others how you want to be treated
Accept your life exactly as it is today
Look for God

Most important, if you have ever seen the movie, or read the book, The Color Purple, is
“Everything want to be loved. Us sing and dance and holler, just trying to be loved.”
-- Alice Walker, The Color Purple


Thursday, June 6, 2013

The Fox With The Candy Heart

there once was a fox with a candy heart
she loved trotting through the forest
and making art

long ago in a darkened land
she was hunted by
evil man
she ran, she scurried
her heart pounding in fear
the hounds released
she felt death was near

curled beneath
a twisted oak
they devoured her candy heart
that loved the most

so left with her little fox self
she was
to create a new heart
out of branches and mud

but soon she added glitter
and ribbons and such
turning her heart sweet
and soft to the touch

If someone eats your candy heart
do not allow an emptiness to start
make anew out of beauty and art
so says the fox, with the Candy Heart.


Friday, May 31, 2013

she has another one that’s an angel now
a long time ago, it started with one friend
who was sick and saw a vision
before she went
they need her & she needs them,
before they die.
There always seems to be, in the
months leading up to their deaths
special moments of realizations
walking in gardens,
and she shares with us
the stories of the lessens they
finally understand
before they go home.
She helps them with it.
It’s a hard and sacred job,
I see.


my. emotions. are. making. me. sick.
I prayed last night for God to heal me.
I know I have so much anger in my belly.
I’m so tired of being angry all the time.
I woke up today realizing that I need to
find a way to stop being so angry.
maybe this is the way God heals us.


Wednesday, May 29, 2013


when I was a little girl
I would go in the back yard
with a hammer and a chisel
to the small rock pile
under the peach tree
and try to break open rocks
with the hopes of finding a Geode

I never found one
but the excitement
and happiness
of the treasure hunt
were all that mattered


Thursday, May 16, 2013

there is a burning in my body
in my belly
in my bones
there is weakness
I want to cry
I push on
I want....
To go to bed
and stay there for a while
I want to feel well again
I am tired of this.


Tuesday, May 14, 2013

A City of Gracious Living

Upland is a strange city. It’s composed of many different worlds, and diverse, but that diversity is greatly segregated into it’s nice, well defined little sections of middle class houses, very nice rich houses, below train tracks section, freeways bordered by homeless people holding up signs for a handout, just below the sign that says “Welcome to Upland, The City of Gracious Living”. Just a small suburban town to the outsider, towered by majestic, comforting mountains, scattered parks, small shopping centers, a historic and sleepy downtown. The other side of Upland is the bars. Upland seems to have a lot of them. There is the old Hi Brow, a dive bar that seems to be a right of passage for those who were born here, attended elementary school, highschool, and find themselves on the cusp of adulthood, either attending one of the neighboring cities community colleges, or in the in between, “I’m just gonna take a break before I start college” stage.

They walk in, pull up a stool, order a beer, and it begins. They belong here, they feel. They have waited all their sleepy small town lives for this, they just didn’t know it until they walk into that open door next to the pet grooming place and the thrift store, and day seems to turn into night. It’s the same old bar tenders with the bad customer service, most of them. And sure, they’re nice to you at first, cause your fresh meat, and maybe you won’t cause any problems. But if you have the insanity to do what most people tend to do in Dive Bars, you become the out cast, and the Hi Brow becomes the Taj Mahal to the bartenders, and you are dirtying their sanctuary. How dare you get drunk in their place, amongst the old guys who have been there since their right of passage years ago, and never seemed to leave.

First they come in at night, like any respectable drinker, bar goer. After a few years, then maybe after work, when most of the old timers are there. Then, the worst is when you go back in the morning or day sometimes, and there are the few unemployed, playing Keno games, getting free shots from the day bar tender. You walk out drunk, forgetting it is still daylight out, with no where to go but home, or to another of Upland’s many bars. You feel bad. The city feels depressing, cause it is. There is really not much to do there but this, unless you were one of the fortunate ones to have a family to tend to, soccer game to coach, a business to run.

And it’s the same old people in these places. And they are hypocritical and judgmental, while they are doing the same thing you are.

One bar opens, one closes due to fights, or some other problem, or lack of “insurance” paid to some politician. And the hungry group migrates around, to each new bar, until they tire of it. Then go back to where they started, until they get tired of that and the cycle of the bars in Upland is endless, and everybody know everybody.

I grew up in this town, after my family moved here from Ohio when I was seven. California was to that little girl, wilderness, mountains, palm trees, beaches, Disneyland. But where this town is noisy, it is very noisy. And where this town is quiet, it is too quiet.

I was a brownie in the Upland Christmas parade once that went through the historic downtown, with it’s old buildings and antique shops, and a big white gazebo sitting in the middle of the main street. My mom used to take us shopping in that downtown occasionally. A brownie so happy to be walking in the innocence of the parade. Later in life, I spent my time in that same downtown at the Old Baldy Brewery. Especially on $2.00 Tuesdays, where their brewed beer, Raspberry, or Peach, or Blonde was only $2.00 a pint (with an much more expensive hangover), and they had Karaoke. Amongst the younger, fresh batch of right of passage crowd, there were the oldies. Like Curly, a big fat middle aged curly haired drunk, who always wore a white T-shirt and sang karaoke songs like “Cat In The Cradle”, and he was good too, very entertaining, very exciting, sitting there in your fancy going out to the brewery drinking outfit, sipping or gulping on your pint, depending on what stage you were in and what your intention was for the evening, feeling free, feeling a part of it all. Reveling in discovering this part of Upland you never knew existed until now.

And there was “the Watcher”, the old guy who always wore the same windbreaker, glasses, with greasy hair, with his thick working class hand on his beer glass on the table and his elbow propping his hand up over his mouth that barely concealed the same amused smile at the new kids shenanigans and drama. Sometimes he would stay till closing if it got really good, just sitting there quiet like that, smiling, not saying a word, watching.

And then there was the in-between age Benny, who walked around singing Benny & The Jets, in his sunglasses, except he changed the words to “Vegas is the best.” That guy taught me how to “levitate”, a very important bar skill, that sealed a bond between us from that point on, even though we never really had talked before that.

I am convinced that to the middle class kids, when they are young, these bars are invisible and do not appear until you hit 21. And when you walk in all young, naive and innocent, you are the most beautiful creature in the whole world. Except at that time you don’t realize that you are the most beautiful creature in the whole world to a bunch of old drinking class men who do not want to adore you, they want something from you. And in return for their admiration of your youth and free spiritedness, and jokes they want you to make them feel better about their lives. In whatever way that means. But mostly, at first that just means, they look at you, flirt with you, and you flirt back cause your glad someone is paying attention to you and thinks your great. And you can loose yourself in the beer, you’re a grown up now, a real live grown up, with an apartment, perky breasts, free will.

It’s kind of like those kids that go off to college and have the time of their lives, finally get their independence while getting an education. They have their freedom, but it is a more respectable freedom that way. Our party, the ones who didn’t go away to colleges, is in the Upland bars, that’s where we got alcohol poisoning, found out about love and sex. But some of them never leave it, like the kids graduating college and leaving all that silliness behind. Some of them stayed, and didn’t’ know there was a time to move on. Hell, some of them are old men and women now, but mostly old men, still sitting there on their stools after work waiting for the newbies to walk in with that wonderment in their eyes, and maybe if you look good enough, if you are pretty, fun, and a little bad, they stay on their stool to talk to you and order more beers just a little while longer, before they go home to their wives, and then do it all again the next day.

Jennifer Miller

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Somewhere In The Future....

May 8th, 4013

Today a team of archeologists in the seaside town of California uncovered what appears to be the Temple of The Golden Arches, thought until now to be only a legend. Beneath the two huge yellow arches were perfectly preserved fragments of food from that period that appear to be a type of bovine between two pieces of bread, and several round, crusted pieces of some type of fowl.

Several statues were also unearthed, including one believed to be a depiction of the god that the Temple of The Golden Arches was built in honor of. The stature is of a figure wearing a yellow stripped suit, with painted face and bright red hair, an inscription reads "Ronald McDonald". In ancient America, Ronald McDonald was the god of humor, and worshipers often prayed to him to make their meals happy.

~Jennifer Miller
there are many of us
who can’t quite decide
who we would like to play
in this life

the wise sage?
Meditating in nature, always
with friendly, welcoming, serene
smile across our face?

the artist, painting,
sculpting, perhaps
sitting in Parisian cafe’s
drinking small drinks
of spirits or coffee?

the wild, carefree rebel
living with reckless abandon
to party late into the night
pushing the limit against
life, against the world
regardless of any cost
a bright loud bottle rocket
that streaks across life
in one full brilliant amazing
explosion that if you look away
from for only a minute you may

the writer, who would
be published, if only
she submitted her tickets
to the booth for the ride.
I don’t even feel like writing


Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Somewhere In The Future

April 17, 4014

In an archeological dig today several ancient symbols painted on stone were uncovered.

Scholars believe that this symbol depicts man in the seat of the Universe. Those who bore this symbol were considered to be highly advanced and were greatly honored by the ancient civilization.


Thursday, April 18, 2013

Found this today. I had forgotten about it. Strange after a day of sorting through past wreckage, going through a box of papers that needed to be sorted and shredded for years. I saw how unmanagable my life was then through over due bills, cell phone records with calls and texts at embarasing times, like 2am, 3am~ and I see how managable my life is now, and I am at peace and so releived for it. Just yesterday I was thinking how in my past, I needed every single one of the drugs and drinks I took. Every single one to get to the place where I don't need one more drink or drug anymore.


You always ask me about the bottle,
you write about it, plead about it,
want to know everything about it.
The bottle does not talk,
but I do. The voice is at the end of the bottle,
where lay every frustration, disappointment,
fear, wrong turns, days gone by too quickly
to only fade into the cruel lights of the worlds stage.
Faces that were loved, faces that were lost,
hearts that were stabbed to death with pins and needles.
Hope that burst open like a beautiful fire cracker,
only to fade into and dissipate in the evening sky.
I am at the end of the bottle, you are at the end of bottle,
the whole world is at the bottom of the bottle, when it
is quiet, when it is empty, when there is no where else to turn.
And when the bottom is reached, another is reached for,
to see what the next bottle may have to say.
But not the bottom of this bottle, the bottom of this bottle,
simply says--- you have reached the bottom of the bottle,
and there you find yourself.

September 3, 2008

Friday, March 22, 2013

I cannot tell you
the level of self~respect
the peace & calm
that discernment

and I cannot tell you
the level of freedom
& satisfaction that
speaking your mind brings
when you learn the art
of discernment
90% of the time.


Friday, March 8, 2013

if humankind
in general
could cease
at ____
once each man
as we all do
to find awareness
to stay in that
in-between moment
afraid, even
we would all be
better off


Monday, March 4, 2013

you see a cat
I see love

you hear a purr
I hear
a metronome
keeping time
to the beating
of a heart
lulling you into
and a feeling
that all is right with the world


Thursday, February 7, 2013

what do you know of sadness in the world?
I seem to work with it everyday.
I got a story today, from a lady, who
plays violin in an orchestra, and is sad
and lonely.
She wrote a story about her cat, being a
disciple of Jesus. There were pictures drawn
and everything. It was tender and beautiful,
but a little weird and I didn’t know what to
think of it at first. Then I read on about her cat
and how the cats owner gets lonely and sad,
and I felt bad.
What made me feel even worse, is that at the end,
it mentions that her cat died a few years ago.
It broke my heart.

Then I just sat there at my desk, and wished that
I had a job where I didn’t have to deal with
sad lonely peoples cat’s dying on them, and
a bunch of people
trying to figure out the reason we are here,
and the reason for the existence of the universe.
I asked myself, what do I know of
sadness in the world.
That’s my job. I used to think there was this
huge divine reason for it all, or it was my
“karma” to be where I’m at.
But then my doctor upped my anti-depressant
that was already working very well.
And don’t you know, I seem to be more
interested in logic now, in believing in
what I can see and feel.
I seem to be more interested in psychology
and science. I still believe in God, I always will.
But just maybe all these spiritual teachings are
not the end. Maybe we are meant to transcend
even the teachings, created by man, so that we can
fade into nothingness.
What is so bad about that?
At a party one time in Santa Ana
with a bunch of misfits and non conformists,
I smoked some pot from Humbolt, and a few
minutes later I realized I had ceased to have any
thoughts or awareness that I or the world existed.
I didn’t pass out or anything, I was just standing
there under the stars around a bunch of people
and then it was like I had come to

back from nothingness and I knew
that I had lost all consciousness
just standing there
staring up at the stars.
It felt so good after the fact.
I felt so free of my life and it’s
What is so wrong with believing
that everything is just as it appears,
there are no ghosts, masters, aura’s
formula’s, magic words or potions.
No invisible energy. No healing
each other by just sweeping our hands
around some ones body for Christ sakes.
There’s just loving each other,
trying to be the best person we can
to ourselves and one another,
and enjoying our fucking lives
for exactly what they are.

If we were meant to solve the
secret of the universe and find the
reason why we are all here,
we wouldn’t be here in the first
place. It just makes no sense that
that's what life is all about.
I believe it is impossible for us to know
while we are here. Impossible.
Maybe God said, here’s this really
cool place in space
with animals, and trees and sunlight,
go enjoy it and make up some games
to play, then come back and tell me
how it was.


Monday, February 4, 2013

dear self,
I release you for all you are not
all you feel you have to be
that image you feel needs
to be displayed to invoke
a certain opinion of you
or certain thoughts of you
I release you from every false
feeling, thought, pressure
I release you from needing the
acceptance of others
(but it is ok to want it,
just don’t need it)
I release you from all this
so you can get on with the life
you really want to live
so you can be relaxed, and real
in all situations
so you can stop wasting time
on silly things,
and follow your dreams.


Thursday, January 31, 2013

In my 20's I went to this aa meeting where there was this old guy speaking who told us a story about a man who died and went to heaven. He was waiting in line to get in the gates. When his turn came, he said he didn’t know if he was going to get in because he had been an alcoholic. St. Peter told him that he had already been to hell. I still think of that guy and what he said to this day...

In another meeting there was this girl who said that it was no wonder she was an alcoholic, because when she was little all she wanted to do was read books and eat candy all the time.
I still wonder what’s wrong with wanting to read books and eat candy all the time....

Thursday, January 17, 2013

This year, I no longer respond to self important people, huge egos, delusional people, bossy people~ with my usual passiveness and acceptance of “my place.” And.....if you try to treat me other than an equal to you and you want something from me or something done, don’t expect it anytime soon. That is all. I am willing to deal with any consequences from this, including a healthier self esteem, less silly games, and not bowing down before “false images.