I have to make some big life and work changes. At the moment I can’t seem to find the energy to leave my front porch chair, and my mind is a wall of droning noise, with no actual ideas of what I will do to change effectively. People keep telling me that I am strong and talented and will be good at anything I choose to do (can’t live on $7k a year) but those words don’t mean anything to me in the face of how much everything hurts and how frozen in fear I find myself.

I don’t know how one starts over at forty seven. I don’t want to go backwards.

Sunday porch stories.

We have spent most of today here telling each other about who we are, and that will likely mean we aren’t all the way together moving forward, but we are so very much here for our own truths and for each other no matter what. My heart hurts so much and I am such an unbelievably lucky woman.

He says dissolution and I keep accidentally saying disillusionment. 

Both are true. Not sure what will transpire in the end. Somehow the end feels like a beginning. For each. For both.

Sunday porch stories.

We have spent most of today here telling each other about who we are, and that will likely mean we aren’t all the way together moving forward, but we are so very much here for our own truths and for each other no matter what. My heart hurts so much and I am such an unbelievably lucky woman.

He says dissolution and I keep accidentally saying disillusionment.

Both are true. Not sure what will transpire in the end. Somehow the end feels like a beginning. For each. For both.

Prose is about what can be said and what is known and so on. Poetry is about what cannot be expressed. I mean, terrible grief, or intense erotic feeling, or even unspeakable anger are all inexpressible. You can’t put them in words and that’s why you try to put them in words. Because that’s all you’ve got. W. S. Merwin, in an interview with Joel Whitney (via weissewiese)

(via betheyogurt)

metaphorformetaphor:

A thousand half-loves
must be forsaken to take
one whole heart home.

— Rumi, “A thousand half-loves”, The Book of Love: Poems of Ecstasy and Longing. Harper One, 2003

murmurfromtheruins:

pardonmewhileipanic:

bestnatesmithever:

captcreate:

The leg up at the end tho.

I like the coach, putting his hands on his knees like, “Welp, that wasn’t it.”

i was almost like “oh man that sucks” and then her leg popped and i fucking lost it

TA DAAAAAAA!!!


I need to work on my leg flip for this major face plant.

murmurfromtheruins:

pardonmewhileipanic:

bestnatesmithever:

captcreate:

The leg up at the end tho.

I like the coach, putting his hands on his knees like, “Welp, that wasn’t it.”

i was almost like “oh man that sucks” and then her leg popped and i fucking lost it

TA DAAAAAAA!!!

I need to work on my leg flip for this major face plant.

(via hevvic)

Five. 
1. This is today.
2. Today is not forever.
3. The body responds to extended stress in very unpleasant ways.
4. Guess I’m trying Xanax. Not very happy about it. 
5. Maybe I’ll sleep, though. 

Five. 

1. This is today.

2. Today is not forever.

3. The body responds to extended stress in very unpleasant ways.

4. Guess I’m trying Xanax. Not very happy about it. 

5. Maybe I’ll sleep, though. 

Oh, hai preeclampsia level high blood pressure reading

Haven’t seen you in over a decade…

The truth always leads to the light. So just say it.

Danielle Laporte (via anindependentguinevere)

Ok. I said it. Somebody turn on the lights. 

Calling all Angels, calling all Angels
Walk me through this one, don’t leave me alone

I can get through this. I can help my girl get through this.

That’s all I need to do.

modfarm:

How To Grow Your Own Meadow
We look at why you need a wildflower meadow, and how to go about growing your own.

Would like to do this with the lawn that I’m too busy to grow veggies on, because lawn sucks. 

modfarm:

How To Grow Your Own Meadow

We look at why you need a wildflower meadow, and how to go about growing your own.

Would like to do this with the lawn that I’m too busy to grow veggies on, because lawn sucks. 

Sometimes the porch floor feels like the forest floor.

Sometimes the porch floor feels like the forest floor.

I can’t even tell you how beautiful it is out today, because I don’t think I have the language for it, so just know that the warmth combined with the clear air and the cool breeze is deeply healing. Goodness, my eyes are so tired. Tempted to get a quilt to spread out on the grass and take a nap in the late afternoon sun. Alas, inside duties call…

I can’t even tell you how beautiful it is out today, because I don’t think I have the language for it, so just know that the warmth combined with the clear air and the cool breeze is deeply healing. Goodness, my eyes are so tired. Tempted to get a quilt to spread out on the grass and take a nap in the late afternoon sun. Alas, inside duties call…

Wednesday Sundog knows what’s up.

Wednesday Sundog knows what’s up.

Oh, my.

Oh, my.