Category Archives: Writing

Blue Moon

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Hey y’all. If you haven’t heard yet, we’re in for a rare lunar treat this month 🌕 May is closing out with not one, but two full moons. The first arrived on May 1 with the full Flower Moon, and on May 31, the rare Blue Moon will rise.

This phenomenon only happens every two to three years, according to NASA. Additionally, this Blue Moon happens to be a micromoon, meaning the moon will be at its farthest point from Earth and may appear slightly smaller in the night sky.

Blue moons occur because the moon’s lunar cycle lasts about 29.5 days, while our calendar months stretch 30 to 31 days. Every two to three years, the timing aligns just right, giving us a full moon at both the beginning and end of a single month. Pretty magical, right?

And get this: bars across California, from LA to San Diego, are celebrating the occasion by serving blue-colored beer from Blue Moon Brewing Company in honor of this special moon. Right here in my own backyard, Panama Joe’s seems to be the hive for grabbing a pint of blue beer.

Spiritually, the Blue Moon is seen as a rare cosmic gift, a lunar moment believed to amplify our intentions and inner calling. According to Tea and Rosemary, this Blue Moon rises in Sagittarius opposite the Gemini Sun, illuminating our beliefs, personal truths, and deep hunger for freedom. Right on!

Sagittarius energy invites us to expand, explore, and aim higher. As they describe it, this may be one of the most adventurous and truth-revealing moons of the year. Here’s an invitation to turn inward and listen closely to what this rare Blue Moon may be bringing forth in you:

This moon will bring:

  • A surge of optimism and big picture vision
  • Revelation of deeply buried truths
  • A burning desire for authenticity (always)
  • Opportunities for travel, learning, or spiritual growth (I’m visiting MA & CO next month)

This moon asks:

  • What uncomfortable truths are becoming clear?
  • What outdated beliefs are you ready to release?
  • What adventure is calling you forward?

Great journal prompts for self-reflection!

Here are some Blue Moon activities:

  • Go for a night walk under the moonlight
  • Dance freely to upbeat music as an offering to the moon (Count me in!)
  • Burn a list of limiting beliefs in a sacred fire (or candlelight)
  • Bury a written wish at the base of a tree
  • Embark on a spontaneous adventure

So, people, take aim and point your arrow toward whatever sets your soul ablaze! But above all, take a moment to soak in the wonder of this rare Blue Moon. Cheers!

Piano One

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I’m slowly recovering from three years of burnout. Resting feels a bit like that maddening smoke alarm chirp — You know the batteries need changing, but you can’t figure out which damn alarm is sounding! Even rest feels strangely effortful — my nervous system translates stillness into threat. I used to tell my trauma clients that chronic restlessness and hypervigilance come from a hyperaroused nervous system, and any sound, interruption, or shift in the environment can register danger. Now, I’m living inside the very thing I taught others.

Yesterday morning, I had a doctor’s appointment. Actually, I’ve had multiple back-to-back medical appointments lately — all the things I’ve been putting off forever and am finally tending to. Not exactly a fun, restful time. The whole ordeal seemed to throw my day off, and I found it impossible to reconnect with my body afterward. So I forced, yes forced my way to the keyboard, and I sat and played for a couple of hours.

I purchased a used Korg D1 digital keyboard last weekend. Yesterday was the first day I played her since then. She’s absurdly heavy and currently occupies half my tiny kitchen. It felt a little heartbreaking to play, as I haven’t touched a piano in a long time. I started learning Human Nature by Michael Jackson and A Groovy Kind of Love by Phil Collins. The chord progressions were fairly easy to pick up.

I’m still waiting for an amp to arrive, since the only audio output right now is via headphones, which makes it difficult to listen closely to songs while figuring out chords. Still, it felt really good to sit at the keyboard again and improvise for a while. I tried not to be too self-critical. Eventually, I settled on learning Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence by Ryuichi Sakamoto. I have the sheet music. The piece is full of lush chords, sevenths, ninths, etc., larger than an octave that barely fit beneath my small hands, but I managed. It definitely needs practice; I’ll make a recording once the music feels more embodied.

I first heard Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence on the 1985 album, Piano One (Private Music-Japan) in college. The album quickly became a favorite that I listened to repeatedly. You must give it a listen! My favorite piece is The Housewife’s Song. I wasn’t able to find the album on Spotify, but came across it on YouTube, which I’ve linked below. As I write this post coffee in hand, I’m listening to it again. It brings me back to a younger version of myself — that dreamy, distant, always somewhere in the clouds girl.

While my digital keyboard is no baby grand, which I’m sadly trying to sell due to lack of space, it has a surprisingly rich sound for a digi instrument. It’ll have to do for now. I have two medical appointments today, inconveniently planted right in the middle of the freakin’ day, but I’ll find my way back to the keyboard after.

I’m trying to give myself permission to be exactly where I am — to slow down and enjoy playing simply for the sake of playing. It’s so easy for me to slip back into that performance mindset, obsessing over every phrase, nuance, breath, wanting each note polished, perfect. Jeez, it’s really hard not to be a perfectionist…

Deep to Deep

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I kept forgetting your name
and each time, you patiently reminded me
in that quiet, gentle manner of yours,
your smile held the softness of
someone who’d seen it all.

There was more to you, to your story,
a depth that echoed pain
and made me curious,
pulled at me.

The sadness in your eyes
mirrored my own, deep to deep,
like hunger burning to be witnessed.

And the guarded parts of me opened;
I wanted to ease that ache,
and in easing your ache,
mine was also honored.

May my affection find you
when you most need it,
around and around and back home again,
to a place where you feel most loved.

—A Sunday morning poem about someone who became very dear to me ☕🌿 Mj

Rain Through Me

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The memory of you grows fainter
with each passing day,
your smile growing distant.

I cherish the way
the crinkles round your eyes
and mouth light me up,
yet they are dimming,
like twilight into night.

I long to hear your laugh,
like the gentlest rainstorm
pouring through me.

Night stretches on;
an old weight gathers
beneath my ribs.

I hoped you’d always be
right by my side,
but nothing lasts forever, my love.

A little poem I wrote last night about the one you miss. Mj

burning alive

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remember the first time
you brushed the hair back
from my eyes

it was one of those fever-hot days last July
sand covered our bronzed, bare feet
you leaned into me, your kisses all heat;
i could barely breathe
we were burning alive

you were the blue,
always changing like the tide
born to love me with all the grace
of a blooming sunrise,
my morning star
we kept burning alive

sun and sand,
wind through the palms
we moved together,
in sweet surrender
day and night
i loved you for eternity,
my evening song
we burned through the night

Photo by Storiès on Unsplash

Playlist

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One of my students recently gifted me Heart and The Carpenters LPs as a parting gift from the university, and I was genuinely moved. One day, we were talking about classic rock bands, and I casually mentioned how much I ❤️ Heart.

Lately, I’ve been completely re-obsessed with them. Bad Animals has been on repeat.

I’ve also been deeply into Madison Cunningham lately. If you haven’t listened to her, you absolutely should. She’s a musical genius and an incredible guitarist. What’s especially remarkable is that she was never formally trained — she learned from her father, who was apparently an exceptional guitarist himself.

Two songs I can’t stop listening to right now: Want You So Bad (Heart) and My Full Name (Cunningham).

I love everything about Want You So Bad — such an underrated and absolutely badass song, in my humble opinion. Ann Wilson’s vocals fully embody the yearning in the song. Soooo good. She and Nancy Wilson are easily two of the greatest women in rock ’n’ roll.

I’m also obsessed with the percussion — that driving 80s synth-rock rhythm by drummer, Denny Carmassi. I’m fascinated by the 8th note high hats, and synths, too. Okay, yeah… I geek out over how songs are constructed!

Have you ever listened to the podcast, Song Exploder? Musicians deconstruct their songs piece by piece and tell the story of how they were made. Brilliant. You can find it on Apple Podcasts and elsewhere.

I love the entire Bad Animals album, but for whatever reason, Want You So Bad keeps pulling me back in. It’s become my fave.

Madison Cunningham’s My Full Name is a piano-driven opening single from her most recent album, Ace. The song sketches the bittersweet, vulnerable journey of navigating heartbreak and self-discovery. Perhaps there’s a theme in the songs I’ve had on repeat lately? LoL!

I genuinely think Cunningham is one of the greatest songwriters today. Her writing is so intricate, layered, technical, and her voice carries a dreamy quality that pulls you in. She’s known to be an indie folk, alternative rock artist with some jazz influence. You just have to listen!

I’ve also found myself revisiting Kalandra lately. I previously posted my favorite song by the group, With You. Based in Oslo, the band formed around Katrine Stenbekk (vocals), Jogeir “Juno” Jensen (guitar), Florian Sommer (bass), and Oskar Johnsen Rydh (drums). Their sound is a mix of atmospheric Nordic folk, alternative pop, and ethereal post-rock, a little reminiscent of AURORA if you’re familiar with her style.

Stenbekk’s voice is so pure — the way she moves into her upper register is truly unreal. There’s something both haunting and cinematic about the band’s music.

I just get lost in music, disappear for hours at a time.

So, what do you have on repeat these days? Would love to know. Drop a comment below!

Put on your headphones and turn up the volume!

goodbyes are damn hard

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Hello out there, and happy May! I hope wherever you are, the weather is sunny and warm. It’s been a rather chilly spring thus far here in Southern California. We did have a few very warm days about a month ago, but since then it’s cooled off. I’m completely enjoying it.

I’m in the process of winding things down at the university — holding final sessions with clients and preparing for my departure. I underestimated how difficult it would be to say good-bye. When I was considering resigning last year, all I could feel was the fatigue, day after day, the burnout.

It’s funny — once you decide to leave, people begin to share their appreciation for you and your work. It’s difficult to truly assess any impact you’ve made when you’re “in it.” I enjoyed my role as the Asian & Pacific Islander (API) Liaison. I deeply loved the work, and I will miss the students and director of APCC (The Asian & Pacific Cultural Center), who has become a friend.

We recently held a cultural graduation celebration for the Asian & Pacific Islander/Southwest Asian & North African students. It was a more intimate gathering, a space to truly honor the graduates in a way the larger ceremonies simply can’t. I’m sure the students felt that. One student I’ve gotten to know pretty well over the past year asked me to attend their graduation, and I was so touched. So yes, my heart is breaking a little — maybe a lot. I think I’m writing this simply to give the grief somewhere to go.

Goodbyes have always been difficult, even as a young child — adoption trauma at its finest. I remember experiencing intense anxiety when my adoptive dad, in particular, went away on business trips. It was like a panic attack laced with grief, a kind of separation anxiety that sat so heavy in my chest. I hated being left at daycare and later, elementary school. Yep, I was the screamer and had terrible stomachaches at school that couldn’t be explained.

My godmother, Janie, visited our family once when I was in elementary school. When it was time for her to return home, I felt that same profound sadness and panic. With every day, I grew increasingly anxious and sad. I sobbed in the car as my mom and I took her to the airport. I stayed there, too embarrassed to step out because I couldn’t stop crying. For days afterward, I mourned her departure. I couldn’t find the words to explain the depth of my emotions, even when my mom asked. I recognize it now as simply pain.

Moments of separation still tend to feel like a small death, not to be morbid, just honest. The intensity has softened, but the grief remains. Some trauma wounds don’t fully close, I’m convinced. It’s part of being human, and perhaps what has shaped me into the trauma therapist I’ve become.

I have facilitated groups for the past three years at APCC. It’s such a vibrant hub where API students gather to study, hang out, play mahjong, and student workers/leaders host support groups. The group I facilitate is called HAPI Hour (get it?), and we explore different topics related to API student mental health. This Wednesday is our last one… and it will be a celebration of all the fun we’ve shared. What great memories I’ll have of the center and the students who I came to adore.

With my resignation, I’ll have more time to devote to sound therapy — growing my practice and following what calls to me. Still, I’ll miss the university, my colleagues, and the students, despite the burnout and those moments I wasn’t sure I could make it through another workday. Goodbyes are damn hard.

May the coming months open into a simpler, more inspired life — one filled with creativity, and of course, magick.

Photo by Alexander Popovkin on Unsplash

Crossroads

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I did it. Yesterday, April 17, under the New Moon, I resigned from my job. The New Moon symbolizes fresh beginnings, intention-setting, planting seeds, and quiet reflection. My last day will be May 20, the end of my contract and the close of the semester. A chapter is ending.

I began this role as a university psychotherapist in June 2023, just three days after leaving my ex-husband and moving into a small apartment of my own. In many ways, that job marked the beginning of a new life. But the work proved far more demanding than I had anticipated.

During my time at the university, I came to a quiet but persistent truth: I’ve never really enjoyed being a therapist. I kept waiting for it to get better, but it never did. Instead, the work grew heavier, increasingly draining. And I’m afraid not even the summer, winter, and spring breaks could prevent burnout.

What did light me up was my role as the Asian & Pacific Islander (API) Cultural Center Liaison, work rooted in supporting the mental health and wellbeing of API students. That space felt different — lighter — and the students were an absolute joy to work with.

I believe I’m a good trauma therapist. The starry heavens know I’ve poured years and more money than I care to recount on trainings, books, and a lifetime’s worth of lived experience. It just rings hollow. That may sound harsh. I wish I’d known then what I know now. I can’t reclaim that time, but I can choose what comes next: a slower, simpler, more artful life.

I’m hoping to grow my sound therapy practice, Om Sacred Sound Journeys, and leave room for whatever else wants to emerge. I know music will be part of this next chapter and writing, too. I’m planning on beginning a new book.

My last book never found commercial success. I’ve only just started reading it for the first time since it was published in 2017. I mean, how many times did I reread, reshape, and edit the draft? The story of my first trip to Taiwan to meet my birth family marks one of the most significant chapters of my life. Publishing it wasn’t for nothing. A younger version of me wrote those pages from a very different place. And still, the emotions are just as vivid, from the search to the moment we found our way back to one another.

Earlier this week, the oracle card “to the stars and beyond” surfaced in my (tarot) reading from Rose Bae Tarot’s These Blue Bones, a deck having a moment right now. It felt like both a spark and an affirmation for my decision to resign. Lately, I find myself thinking about mortality, not out of gloom, but clarity. Time shifts as we mature. There’s less time to do what makes you happy. In this season, I get to choose how I live it. Autonomy. Personal sovereignty. Independence. Let me embody this new path, to the stars and beyond.

This song brings me back to my younger self. I’ve been especially nostalgic of late. It may not quite fit this post, but it fits my mood perfectly.

Held by Sound

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Have you ever been so moved by a piece of music that it brought you to tears? I have. I still am.

For days, I’ve felt drawn to listen to On the Nature of Daylight by Max Richter. Are you familiar with it? It’s easily one of my favorite contemporary classical works. I love all of Richter’s music, but this piece feels especially transcendent.

I wanted to give it my full attention, and the quiet of this morning felt like the perfect time. I sat with headphones on, hands crossed over my heart, and let the music hold space. I literally shed tears, so completely was I captured by it.

So many thoughts and emotions moved through me that I began listing them in my journal: ecstasy, sorrow, despair, sadness, transcendence, love, intimacy, desire, longing, yearning, hope, bliss, magick, forgiveness, tenderness, tolerance, caress, breath, movement, darkness, light, expression, expansion, transformation, warmth, belief, faith, embrace, connection, grief, loss, truth…

And yet words still feel insufficient to describe this kind of magick.

I kept the piece on repeat as I moved through my morning tarot reading. The first card I drew was Art — Temperance in the Rider–Waite–Smith system — a card of integration and alchemy: making whatever you do a work of art; friendship between mind and heart; rest and activity; light and dark; self and others; approaching life creatively, with an artist’s eye.

It felt deeply aligned with the experience itself — as though the music and the card were speaking the same language.

Music saves and meets me exactly where I am. My first love — and likely my last.

I remember spending hours alone in a tiny practice room at Centenary College (of Louisiana), just me and Beethoven, Bach, Chopin, Debussy, Mozart…There was no fear or judgment there. No pressure to please an audience or play perfectly. Only connection — to the keyboard, to sound, to frequency and vibration. It felt sublime.

In today’s heavy world, music still holds the power to uplift, to ground, and to offer a kind of safe communion unlike anything else.

I recently discovered an artist who was new to me: Yannic Lowack, a German composer. The piece featured below, Leuer, is another composition I’ve completely fallen in love with. He also shared a short preview of an orchestral version — without piano — on Instagram. You can find him on both YouTube and Instagram.

I miss those days of studying music and practicing piano every day. They remind me of who I was — and still am, despite the years away — a musician, drawn to the expressive arts. May the days ahead bring new opportunities to return to the keyboard and reconnect with that musical inheritance!

a gentle life

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I want a slow, simple, peaceful life,
one that doesn’t ask me to live on edge,
one that doesn’t grind my bones to dust
just to pay the goddamn rent.

A life where enough is enough,
where healing is a calling
that feeds me too,
not just those around me.

I wish for mornings that open softly,
light pouring in without alarms,
furry creatures and soft whinnies,
the quiet language of animals,
knowing without words.

I’m not asking for castles
or keys to forever.
The material doesn’t interest me.
Only a place where love is close
and the ones I cherish
are within reach of my voice.

Why is that so hard?
Why does something so small
feel near impossible,
like asking the world to stop spinning
for one gentle hour?

And still, inside this tired chest,
lives a stubborn spark
that keeps burning.
There must be more than this;
there must be a slower way to live.

So I hold that wish
like a candle in the dark
and dream of a life
that doesn’t hurt to wake up to.

Photo by Toni Reed on Unsplash

Honor Rest & Renewal on Samhain

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Today, I pause. I breathe. I rest and honor my ancestors on this blessed Samhain.

I’m grateful to have the day off – to simply be. To sit in stillness and solitude without the weight of expectation feels like a blessing in itself. The veil is thin today, and I lean into the presence of those who came before me – my birth mother and father, and the lineage of ancestors whose names I may never know. I honor them, and I honor the mystery that connects us across time and space.

Lately, life has felt full and demanding. I’m working full-time again, and though I hoped summer break would bring the restoration I so deeply needed, fatigue seems to have returned too soon. Halfway through the fall semester, I find myself wondering how to sustain balance – how to counsel others, meet the demands of my current job while not forgetting myself.

My dream remains clear: To eventually transition into full-time sound therapy work. Supporting my adult daughter these past two years has delayed that shift, yet I hold faith that in time, things will align. When she finds her footing, I’ll be able to step more fully into the work my heart longs for, creating healing spaces through resonance, stillness, and sound.

Despite the challenges, I’m proud of the small steps forward. I’ve completed my website, OM Sacred Sound Journeys, a milestone that feels like planting a tiny seed. Beginning next February, I’ll offer bi-weekly sound therapy sessions, a sacred rhythm I hope will grow into something sustainable and nourishing. 

I’m reconnecting with my musical roots, singing and playing for a herd I once worked with in equine-assisted psychotherapy and slowly returning to my guitar after years away. These small acts of reconnection remind me that healing unfolds gradually, as does starting a private practice.

Self-employment feels both thrilling and terrifying. The freedom to follow my calling is overshadowed by the very real worries of bills, rent, health insurance, and all the practicalities of life. Yet amidst uncertainty, I sense that this path is where I’m meant to go.

So today, under the quiet light of Samhain, I choose rest. I choose reflection. I choose to listen deeply to the whispers of my ancestors, to the call of my own heart, and to stillness. May this season bring renewal, remembrance, and faith in what is yet to come.

Photo by Catherine Crawford on Unsplash

Dark Moon

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Hello World! Wow, it’s been a minute since I last visited WordPress. It is the eve of Mabon and the Autumn Equinox – if you live in the Northern hemsphere – and  Ostara and the Spring Equinox – if you live in the Southern hemisphere. I will be observing Mabon bright and early first thing tomorrow morning before work…sigh…with a group of other like-minded and spirited individuals. It is also a dark moon or new moon, my favorite.

I am not a morning person, well, more accurately, I’m a slowwwww morning person and hate rushing. I am not a fan of the 8am-5pm work-life schedule of which I am now bound, against the clock at every damn minute of the day. Who’s idea was that anyway? I’m dreaming of cutting that cord, but the day has not yet arrived.

And so the wheel of the year continues…one cycle ends making space for a new one. What lessons have I learned? What paths have I traversed? Hmm…Life has been one continuous wheel of never-ending “tower moments” for the past two and a half years. I hope something more peace loving and soul aligned arrives soon. 

Things that keep me grounded during tower moments include art and spirituality. Collaging has become a beloved outlet, a wide open space to tap into creative expression. It’s such a satisfying artistic art form. I love designing a collage, selecting the photos, pictures, etc, to create a narrative. Maybe I’m the only one who gets it, but who cares! My spiritual practice has taken a nose dive now that I’m back at work. But little moments here and there are better than none at all.

I hope to travel to Taiwan over the winter break in January to visit my birthfamily. My eldest sister has already reserved a hotel. It’s been 13 years since I last saw my birthfamily. I never intended to wait such a long time to revisit. We are much older, and good health is not guaranteed to any of us. I truly hope I will have the energy to be present with my family, not some shell of myself. This academic year, I vowed not to get to the level of burnout I experienced last year. Steps to protect my energy are always at the forefront of my mind. 

In the meantime, welcome Autumn! I look forward to cooler days, to pumpkin pie, and the holiday season. Oh, and to slowing down, of course. Autumn is my favorite time of the year! I do love it so. Hoping you are all safe and well wherever you are. May cooler weather bring a welcome change of pace into your life!

Feature Photo by Šimom Caban on Unsplash

Photo Gallery: Collages by moi!

Soul Aligned

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Good day, one and all! I hope you’re enjoying the summer days. I’m grateful that the weather continues to be mild here. The pink and purple twilights are magical. What I love most about this summer break from university is the freedom in which I can move and breathe at my own pace. Ahhhh, slow, meditative mornings with my cup of coffee. Movies in the evenings. Solitude and ritual. It’s been rejuvenating.

I am in the process of building a sound therapy practice. Starting a new practice is quite scary. I had a private practice for two years, and I know how hard it is to grow a business and make it thrive. I’ve been a board-certified music therapist since 2009 and recently began training in sound therapy utilizing singing bowls and other resonant instruments, chanting, researching the science behind sound medicine. I facilitated some sound therapy groups last semester at the university as well as a number of small drum circles. 

My primary instrument is piano. I studied piano performance in undergrad then years later learned guitar and drumming while studying music therapy, a requirement to obtain certification. I sing, though it’s not my strong suit. I trained in group drum circle facilitation years ago, fell in love with the drum. I miss my piano and playing dearly. Music is clearly my medicine. Interestingly, I have listened to less music than ever before. Silence is like a balm.

The birth of a sound therapy practice is slow work. My hope is to help people along their spiritual and wellness journey, to enhance, to restore, to create an opening for self-discovery and increased spirituality. I’ll keep you posted on my progress.

Photo by petr sidorov on Unsplash

The Magick of Slowness

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Hey out there! Hope you’re having a swell summer. The temperature here is not yet sweltering, so I’m enjoying windows open daily. I’ve been on summer break just over a month – it has been glorious. There is a magick in this liminal space, the in-between semesters, that has brought healing and restoration. I am no longer who I was, yet I am not quite who I am to be. Last year was tough, maybe one of the toughest I’ve ever experienced, but it had its life lessons, and I am taking them to heart.

I’ve been savoring slow mornings, slowing down in general. It’s lovely to leisurely sip my morning coffee without rushing. I have not missed disconnecting from others one bit. Journaling, personal study, spirituality have all been life saving. But mostly the magick of slowing down, sweet silence, the echo of presence, noticing each breath have led to divine surrender, wisdom, and liberation. 

Summer break will come to an end, and I will return to work mid-August. The test of wisdom will come in finding divine balance, countering stress and the pace of work with a solid inner spiritual foundation, finding the power within to face each and every challenge. There is this – I have the rest of the month to indulge in solitude and cultivate my inner divine badass.

The video below is of female French trio, Les Itinérantes. I adore them and recently discovered their music. I find this song, Sahèl, to be quite powerful.

“Sahèl” is a composition in Eldali (a language invented by Elodie, one of the vocalists) that invites you to reconnect with “the source,” to rediscover meaning and roots through a connection with the living, the pursuit of authenticity, and the recollection of ancient memories.

“Sahèl anouvel iè,
Vènia assoulèkh na
Sahèl anoukrie biè,
Chakh liè bioun èlia”

The source is calling for you over there
Approach, let yourself be guided
The source roars below
Join its flow if you dare.

A Home Blessing

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For alter, home, or sacred space.
Cast a circle if that is part of your practice.

By sacred breath and will divine
I cast this circle, draw the line
Here I am safe, here I am found–
Within these walls, now hallowed ground.

May love take root and passion flame,
Magick rise and speak its name.
Let humor dance through every room,
To lift the heart and chase the gloom.

Live well, my dear, within this space,
A haven forged in time and grace.
Where dreams take wing and hope may rest,
A sacred hearth where all feels blessed.

From shadow’s grip, the past released,
Old fears unbound, their hold now ceased.
New seeds are sown in fertile soul,
To bloom in light, to make me whole.

With every breath, let blessings flow,
As peace and solitude softly grow.
So may it be–by flame and sea,
By sky, by stone, by will in me.
✨ It is done. It is sealed. And, so it is. ✨

Photo by petr sidorov on Unsplash

Summer Breeze

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Summer break has finally arrived! Whew! My tiny space is coming together, beginning to feel like home, and my dog has adapted well to the space. She’s such a fierce bundle of joy. I hope to have her for longer periods of time. She is usually with my ex, as he works from home. I didn’t want to leave her alone for 8+ hours while I worked. I miss her, as we truly were attached at the hip. That’s Poppie below. There are no personal boundaries with a doxie.

I’ve had a couple of days to sit on the other side of a busy year. I became someone I didn’t recognize, an irritable, moody shell. I read some of my past posts and cringed. Some have been deleted. Slowing down is a gift to be savored. Perhaps a shift is on the horizon. I trust in divine wisdom and that clarity is yet to come. 

Last night I took a stroll around the neighborhood. The scent of jasmine is lovely this time of year, and the neighborhood is heady with it! There was a nice summer breeze, like that Seals and Croft song, 

Summer breeze, makes me feel fine
Blowin’ through the jasmine in my mind.

I plan to catch up on some blog reading soon. Gosh, it’s been a while. Happy writing, and wishing you a stellar day!

Feature Photo by Emma Dau on Unsplash

life is anything but…

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Hello World. I moved this week over Spring break. Thankfully, I had the week off. My third move in two years, post divorce. It’s been rather stressful. Don’t get me wrong, I love my new place, and the area is terrific. It’s very small, yet much closer to the beach. I have gone back and forth to Goodwill to donate stuff all week, and still, there are boxes of stuff, a closet full of stuff, and wall art that won’t work in the space. I think I may have to sell my digital piano, as it doesn’t fit anywhere. I sold my newish dining table and other things to decrease stuff. I am trying not to complain, as I truly love the area. And the neighbors on either side of my unit seem great. It’s just been tough, and I’m heading back to work next Monday. More to do, as my car is also having issues that must be addressed. Tomorrow, I’ll spend the day at the automotive shop. Timing, it feels as though I’m swimming upstream. I’m staying put for as long as possible!

The week before the move, I began having panic attacks – again. Haven’t had one in a while. I’m grateful they weren’t as bad as others. No ER or EMTs. I moved due to a feral cat situation at my last rental that never went away. The cats continued to poop on the property. A month before I decided to break the lease, the homeowner finally addressed it by putting rock on the front lawn and wire on the fence in the backyard as deterrents. It did very little, as the cats continued to show up, as though to say, “Stupid humans; we own the place.” The neighbor next door feeds and cares for the cats and has done so forever. So if anyone were to go, it was me. Homeowner refused to release me from the lease, which doesn’t end until July 1st. It has just sucked all around.

I hope that moving will eventually bring peace of mind. My car was starting to smell like cat poop – gross! Okay, so this is the end of my little rant. I know somewhere there’s a rainbow.

Photo by Illiya Vjestica on Unsplash

Magic Fucking Wand

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My fuck-it meter’s spiking high;
I can’t even see straight.
If only fuck were a magic word –
a spell I could hiss,
I’d summon a wand from thin air
and set the whole damn mess on fire.

My fuck-it, fuck-you, fuck-this thoughts
softened on the spot,
equilibrium restored
with one damn flick of the wrist
Now that would be some powerful magick.

Guess I’ll just sage instead.

Photo by Joanna Kosinska on Unsplash