Simple things are infused with magic and meaning for me as I rebuild my world. The bullet I wear on my neck is my vitality. It has fallen from its chain, been mourned and then rediscovered at least a dozen times this past year. My kid found the bullet a few days ago in the driveway, and I need to hang it next to my heart again. The labradorite babygirl gave me became the symbol for my yearning and my aim, an earthy dark stone I sometimes warm in my hands as I’m working. Its quiet secret is that it flashes suddenly and gloriously iridescent when held to the light. I also have a turkey feather from a beloved faraway friend’s land that I hope to see one day, stuck into the chime of a bell the same friend gave me a dozen years ago when we were both young. Her gifts remind me that some really fine people did love me simply for who I am, and still do. Since I am reinventing my life, I also hung my own mission statement from a pushpin. Its says:
I INTEND TO LEAVE AN IMPRINT ON BEAUTY AND LOVE ON THE WORLD BY FORGING AND MAINTAINING A FORWARD-MOVING, CREATIVE, PEACEFUL LIFE ROOTED IN INTEGRITY AND STABILITY SO THAT I CAN TAKE GOOD CARE OF MYSELF, MY FAMILY, AND MY COMMUNITY.
Working on alla dat every day. 😉
Kicked off my smoking cessation yesterday. No cigarettes in the morning is the hardest! When I wake up to write, it’s been my luxurious habit to smog up half a pack while sipping four shots of espresso. I’m just gonna mix up my routine for the next few days and not sit here at my desk so much. I have 3 nicotine patches leftover from an earlier attempt, and I taped one of those motherfuckers to my arm. Got a bag of Atomic Fireballs too!
M has been behaving much better since I put the smack down on her narrow little behind. She’s still so irresponsible though, I have to double-check her comings and goings, and then take the extra step to verify everything that comes out of her mouth. My kid adores babygirl, but still gets a little jealous sometimes, like she wanted the new desk from Craiglist to be her’s. With all her shenanigans, I know it sounds like she would just be a pain, but even her exasperated teachers admit although she is two fucking handfuls, M is just so dang sweet and likable. My mom said that, too. Lately her delinquent little boyfriend has been pressuring her. I tell her everything she needs to know about sex and offer my advice without judgment. As she moves father into her teens, I know she probably won’t share these private things with me any longer, but I do hope she uses her head about that stupid boy. She knows she would be betraying herself.
I’m doing a weekly poetry workshop the next few months and really looking forward to it.
For the last few months, we only eat any kind of meat maybe once a week. I found the po’ folks food bank here and ordered some bulk produce and seafood. We are so fucking tight! But somehow with crazy cosmic luck, some creativity and a web gig here and there, I’m pulling it off. I’ve worked since I was 12 and am not opposed to shuffling for The Man, but this divorce and the resulting destruction of my livelihood happened at a really crucial period in M’s life. She’s just not in a place where she can be left to her own devices. A flat tire or unexpected overdraft charges could sink us, but I’ve been here before and remind myself tons of folks are in the same place with this economy. Really, it sounds crazy to call yourself lucky when someone has set out to deliberately destroy you, but I’m sincerely grateful for all my fortuity this past year.
Good day, all.