Shedding Skin

I have Pluto and Saturn conjunct in my first house.  What that means is that I am continually transforming and evolving throughout my life.  My life…a revolving cycle of caterpillar to butterfly.  That’s what I’ve always read anyway.  It feels different than that though.  It feels like I keep unzipping myself, revealing a whole new layer inside of myself.  Over and over, I’ve opened up the zipper of my consciousness to reveal parts of myself that I never knew existed.  And just as quickly, shed the dead skin of my old self, sometimes by choice…sometimes by force. 

That’s where I’m at in life right now.  Shedding my old dead skin.  Opening up to a brand new suit.  A brand new phase.  This one looks like gold to me.  I need sunglasses just to think about it.  I know exactly what im going to do with this one.  

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For My Fairy Godmother 


When I realized that I had moved my kids into a new town, with a man that made me crazy, I started to get very depressed.  Not like my normal sad slumpy mood, but sad like I thought the world would be better off without me, more specifically…that my children would be better off without me.  It got pretty dark inside my head for the first time since the prenatal depression I experienced in both of my girls’ third trimester.  It’s the kind of depression that creeps in without a notice, and then one day you can’t stop yourself from googling suicide notes and listening to Marilyn Manson’s Dope Show on repeat while crying hysterically at inappropriate times.  

So you can imagine the fucking miracle it was for me when my boyfriend’s daughter invited me to a ‘moon gathering.’  We took pillows and journals and little vegan snacks.  We sat on the floor of a quiet little yoga studio, in a circle around an altar of candles and sage.  A circle of women, beautiful spiritual women, meditating and talking about the moon and astrology.  I’m a fucking astrologer!  Where have these ladies been all my life?! I came from a family of extremely conservative Christians, who did not understand me or accept me.  And all my life I’ve been surrounded by people giving me the crazy girl laugh-off.  Anyone who believes in the stars is batshit crazy, right?  And there I was, just like the little bumble bee girl in Blind Melon’s ‘No Rain’ video.  I had just stumbled upon a room full of my own tribe, my sisters.  

And when my world came crashing down shortly after that, those women carried my drowning spirit to dry land.  They became my friends in a town where I had none.  They fed my soul with respect and love like a farmer feeds water to a thirsty crop.  And I’m certain we all came together for the very purpose of spreading our light.  It really does feel like I’ve known these women all of my life, or lives.

One of these ladies has changed my life beyond my wildest expectations.  I knew the moment I met her, that she would be significant in my life. I can’t remember if I told her my story first or if she told hers.  But we had come through similar experiences.  She has courageously warred her way through life.  She is a legend.  She is the kind of person that demands attention without ever demanding attention.  The world just gravitates towards her.  She is an ascended Leo Rising, a master of energy.  She is my fairy Godmother, as she is for anyone who knows the warmth of her very long hug.  She is my dear friend.  She is the very reason that I crawled out of and rose above my deepest depression.  She was a lighthouse in the hurricane of my life.  And she will never know how honored my soul is to know her.  

May the angels guide her through this darkest time of her own.  And may she know that my heart is always rooting for her health.  

Pompadourable


I took my eight year old daughter to the barbershop on Friday night.  She has been wanting to shave the sides of her head for about two years now.  

I was hesitant to let her go through with this, because I was afraid that kids would be mean to her.  I didn’t want her to get bullied.  I told her, people will think you’re a boy.  She said she didn’t care.  But I know her heart and I know she is very sensitive. 

I’ve always had a sense that she might be gay.  She has told me in a hundred different ways, in her own way.  And lately, she has become more clear about it.  

She told me that she thinks she likes girls, but she’s afraid of what her family and friends would think about it if they knew.  This conversation came out of nowhere, so I was a little caught off guard.  

I told her that if people couldn’t accept her for who she is, than those people aren’t worth her time.  I told her that I’m in her corner no matter what.  And so is her sister, and dad, and grandparents.  I told her that she might know more about herself after puberty…as she seemed a little confused about who she is right now.  And I told her that being different was the best way to be…because you get to stand out from a crowd.  

And just like that… I lost my argument about the hair.  Of course she can shave her head.  Because she is asking to be herself, to express herself, and I would be a hypocrite if I made her conform to any expectation other than her own.  

So we walked into that barbershop and she got herself a pompadour haircut… And I am so proud of her for doing what it took me thirty-something years to achieve…being her own authentic self.

Perception 

My daughter took this photo. She has my eyes.

Perception is a funny word.  I never really paid much attention to it.  I suppose I just figured that perception didn’t really matter.  There can only be one truth, and any deviation of it is just an opinion.  

Now I realize that perception is everything.  There are infinite truths.  Your entire life is just a collection of memories from your own perception.  All you know is just the download of information that you experience through your senses.  How do we know what the color red is?  It could be a completely different color in my eyes than it is in yours.  Our experience of perception is as unique as our fingerprint.  

Have you ever had an experience in life that felt like you were waking up from a dream?  Like, your perception bubble just implodes on itself and you are instantly transported to a completely different opinion about someone or something because your perception of them has changed?  Or maybe you just imagine that their perception of you has changed.  But that’s really just your perception of their perception of you.  

Perception is all we’ve got.  And if we ever realize that our perception can be manipulated by our thoughts…we start to understand how incredibly important it is to have control of our thoughts.  And that’s why I believe that meditation will save the world.

I smoked a lot of weed tonight…the good stuff.  

Breathe 


I gave up smoking two weeks ago.  I’m feeling very dramatic about it.  I have smoked for about twenty years.  It has been a very painful process to say goodbye.  

I have always known that cigarettes are deadly.  Curiosity and a need to rebel introduced me to smoking and I quickly fell in love with the way smoking made me feel.  Cigarettes were my mother, they soothed me.  They were my friend, they listened to me.  They were my constant companion for two decades.  Filling my lungs with smoke was a way for me to feel human, to be aware of my own expiration date.  

Smoking was like every guy I have ever walked away from.  I loved him.  But he was hurting me.   I didn’t want to, but I had to let him go.  I will mourn the loss of this habit for a while.  And then, just like everything else, I will move on from the grasp of it’s chains.  I will be free.  I just have to breathe through it.

Eclipse Trips


My daughters and I decided to drive 539 miles to see the eclipse in totality.  It was a trip that I really couldn’t afford, but I couldn’t really afford not to see it either.  

My girls and I make a point to go out and see every full moon.  It’s our thing.   When we were living with my ex boyfriend on the prairie, the full moon was our saving grace.  We would gather out under the willow tree and stare in amazement at the beautiful clear sky.  And we would talk.  It was beautiful.  You could see the Milky Way so clearly out there.  But the full moon in that setting was a sacred sight.  It became our little tradition and we have kept it up even now that we live amongst trees.  We just drive around the prairie to see it.  This tradition is what I named this blog after.  Our ‘little moon talks’ were one of a few good things that came from the experience of moving my kids into a man’s home who had no intention of loving us or being a part of our family.  Ironically, my little family grew a lot closer because of that experience.  Those talks were the needle and thread, that stitched together the fabric of our bond.  

So this once in a lifetime eclipse was non-negotiable.  We had to see it in all of it’s glory.  On Sunday afternoon, we got in the car and started driving south.  It’s kind of scary to venture out on a big road trip as a single mom.  I grew up with a very safety conscious dad who used terrorism as a means to educate me about the world.  So my mind was repeatedly going through every possible disaster as I drove my old crappy car down the highway.

I had booked a hotel in a small town just a few hours from the eclipse destination.  I had googled the town and it looked adorable from the pictures.  We had our swimsuits packed and ready because this Southern Indiana hotel offered such amenities as an outdoor pool and continental breakfast!  It was a name brand hotel, so I figured we were safe.  Besides…I saw some pictures online and it looked cute! 

When we arrived to the hotel, a twelve year old boy took my credit card payment and advised that our room was around the corner from the office.  We drove around the building and my heart dropped.  The pool was full of trees.  Of the two cars in the parking lot, one of them was covered with bungee cords, duct tape, and spray paint.  I had the terrifying feeling that we would end up much the same way had we actually stayed there.  There were sketchy people inside one of the rooms, peaking out from the curtain, probably sizing up my children for human trafficking purposes.  We didn’t even go inside.  We went back to the office and asked for a refund, to which the twelve year old host acted as if he hands out refunds all day long.  I’m sure he does.  Unfortunately, he ended up charging my card again before issuing a double refund.

I panicked.  I was about 6 hours away from home.  I had very little money to work with, and the refund was going to take five days to process.  We drove around until we found another hotel that looked a little bit better from the outside.  When we walked in, an older gentleman with stained up sweatpants and a ripped up tshirt ignored us for a moment before looking up and offering a room for $68.00.  I didn’t see any other options, so we booked it.  This hotel smelled like burning garbage.  I’m not sure what a meth lab smells like, because I have never smelled one before, but I’m sure there were at least a few of them operating in that hotel.  We locked our door and I laid our own blankets on top of the bed.  I tried to remain calm, but inside I was panicking.  I couldn’t stand the smell, it was unlike anything I had ever smelled before.  

I posted my situation on Facebook, partly because I wanted people to know where we were in case we came up missing.  And partly because I thought my eight year old daughter nailed the situation when she said that hotel was straight out of the television show ‘My Name Is Earl.’  

I was ecstatic when my childhood best friend who I haven’t seen in more than a decade responded saying that she only lived 45 minutes from our hotel and to come over because she had spare bedrooms ready for us.  I had tears in my eyes from the relief I felt after hearing from her.  I didn’t even know she was living in Southern Indiana.  We gathered our belongings and b-lined out of that disgusting mess.  This time, a refund was refused.

It was surreal, arriving to my old friend’s house in the middle of the night.  Her house was beautiful and she had two safe, clean bedrooms ready for us.  I was so thankful.  I was also excited that my girls got to meet her.  The last time I saw her was at my baby shower when I was pregnant with my fourteen year old.  

In the morning, we headed out early.  We took all the back roads through rural Kentucky.  We drove through the mountains and down curvy roads that wound around through mountains and rivers.  We saw endless horse pastures and golden yellow tobacco fields and homes that should be in magazines.  We listened to good music and had conversations about the meaning behind their lyrics.  It was a glorious day.

When the eclipse came, we were in the parking lot of a high school in Bowling Green, Kentucky.  We had our glasses ready and spread a blanket out in the shade of some pine trees.  It was so cool to watch the sun disappear.  When the moon had covered the sun completely, and darkness fell into the daytime, and the birds went silent, and the crickets started chirping, I looked over at my girls.  They were smiling and enjoying the adventure of it all.  I thought for a moment about how far we had all come, not just in that crazy trip, but in life.  I got really emotional and started to cry.  I’m not sure what exactly I was releasing there in the big shadow hovering over Kentucky, but it felt good to let go.  And my girls got a good laugh at their sometimes overly sentimental mom who drove eight and a half hours to cry through the Great American Eclipse.  

The trip back took an extra four hours because of the heavy traffic.  My girls never argued.  I never had to yell at them.  They only ever complained about that hotel room, which was completely understandable.  

In the past couple of months, I’ve had certain people in my life question my abilities as a mom.  My own mother told me that driving to Kentucky was irresponsible of me.  My ex husband had tried to demand custody of my younger daughter, saying that he could do better than I do.  Sometimes I let these people get into my head.  But after taking this amazing trip with my girls, I really don’t care what anyone else thinks. Those little ladies are my family and I couldn’t ask for a better tribe.  We are complete and content, just as we are.  

Empath Love 


In my experience, people in general can be selfish and shitty, even if they do smell like roses. If you ever happen to catch my attention, you should know that I will hold on fiercely to every wicked thing about you. I will polish your dark side like fucking diamonds. I will rearrange the aesthetics of your very essence, pushing back your demons and pulling forward the pillars of light around your soul.  

And you will see yourself through my eyes, and for the first time, you will fall in love with the scenery of your own shadow.  But sadly, you will assume that my perception of you is only the result of my own ignorance, because deep down you believe that you are nothing more than shit. And even though I can only smell the sweet fragrance of roses inside of you, your focus will remain on the stench of everything you think you are hiding from me.  

And you should know that you can’t hide those hideous treasures from me. I have deep caves inside of myself that are darker than anything you could ever imagine. And that gives me the power now, doesn’t it? You will mistake my kindness for weakness. You will feel my graciousness and then believe that you are somehow entitled to it. You will think you have me on lockdown.  You will assume that I must be under your control because all you can feel is the warm light that I have painted you in.

But you can’t win a game that you aren’t familiar with. My eyes, and the way that they see you, are my own. You don’t own my focus, or my power. And as soon as you start to believe that you do, I will set a fire to the garden of roses that I had so graciously planted in your piles of manure. And I will walk away with one last picture of you, seeing you as nothing more than a pile of shit. Your delusion will become mine. And my delusion will fall into your precious little box of big regrets.  

If you ever learn to plant your own damn roses, I would love to stop by and smell them.