I’ve been having a hard time writing, as of late.

I probably have at least three or four different drafts putting out the vibe in what WordPress calls the “Dashboard”. They were maybe too angry or too vague for whatever it is I really want to say. I always feel like I have something better to offer.

But also, sometimes, I don’t.

In reflecting on what I’ve written about over the year, I’ve noticed some overarching themes. To be honest, it is where my head currently lives. There’s this deep thing inside of me that imagines myself as an ocean with the moon pulling, or a galaxy far away that is infinite.

I find myself putting boundaries on how I feel and when I can feel them. I take pride in my emotions and that I feel comfortable living in them. I’m defensive of them. I’m defensive of how people view me in them.

I keep going back to the fact that I am torn into so many pieces. What it looks like in my head, say, ripping up a piece of paper into tiny little pieces and throwing them into still water. How they all sort of disperse in different directions, slowly. That’s what my heart feels at the moment.

With dating, I have no idea what I’m doing. I haven’t had to do this stuff in such a long time and I’m battling the urge to avoid it for the sake of my own independence and being able to move in and out of things.

Then, there is the part that wants me to settle. To not ever move again. To invest deeply and finally.

There is a voice in my head telling me that cooking is my passion and that I’ll be doing this the rest of my life. And sometimes, I want stability and I want normal hours. I want a wife and kids and all that messy stuff. I want it so badly.

And then I want to travel around and give myself to different cultures.

I miss my people in Oregon.

But I also cling tightly to my community in Mississippi.

I want to help bring better dining culture to the Deep South.  I want it to grow and I want our people to move forward with all sorts of things. They take time though, and my heart is all over the place.


I want to love someone so deeply again.

I want to kiss them after a long and hard day.

There is also a voice in me that finds a lot of freedom in floating around as a singular being, soaking up all sorts of different things.

Oh the luxury I seem to have, and I can’t figure out a damn thing.

All I can do, and all I’ve ever done since that big shift, was to keep on waking up the next morning. To keep exploring my options and most importantly, to keep listening to my heart. I have learned to really trust that thing, ya know? It told me I needed to go home. It told me I need to say this and that…and I have no regrets.

But as I mentioned earlier, my pull is to the cosmos, to the infinity where my soul finds peace in the never-ending struggle and breakthrough of the human spirit.

My pull is to the moon — where I am washed in and out — discovering bits and pieces of past and present lives.

I indulge in them all.

I hold fast,

hands firmly on the boat’s wheel,

floating ceaselessly onto others worlds

where I might again, find you.


3 responses to “floating”

  1. It’s uncanny how you manage to write things that I can relate to. This moving forward business is hard work. Being ONE again is hard work. Dating again is hard work. I’m slowly learning to do what I want to do, what my gut tells me to, rather than what I think I should do. A hard lesson for someone who has pushed herself all her life.
    I think you are on the right track. You seem to be coping, and one day it will be more than just coping.
    The tiny little pieces will all come together again one day, washed clean.

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