VerySo

Luvvie Ajayi Jones It’s on my right knee. In the shape of a chicken’s foot, a lightning strike with three legs, and is a dirty purple color that to this day I claim is the gravel that was left inside and my skin grew over.   I must have been about 10 or 11, it was when we were living on Pryor Rd in the late 80’s and I was riding my ten speed through the neighborhood behind our house. It began to rain and I hurried too fast around a turn, spilling onto that super tiny almost soft (but actually little daggers) kind of dusty gravel. My knee was black and felt like it was burning. I made it home as fast as I could, crying through the house to find Mom. She administered first aid in her bedroom bathroom by pouring hydrogen peroxide generously over my bloody dirty knee and I felt so betrayed by that sizzling sting. Then Neosporin, then bandaid, then a summer-long scab that I thought my mom’s friend Marcia’s pool would heal. And no amount of dog licks worked either.  So, 35 years lat...

I need to be writing down the good days. It’s come to this. I need to keep track of this. Proof.  Sometimes the clouds part and the mirage fades/the fog burns off and I see a glimpse of things being okay. This weekend I woke up early and didn’t begrudge it, I *embraced* it. I made a giant breakfast of waffles with the new waffle maker I finally got around to buying, bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, fresh cut strawberries and blueberries. People ate as they got up from bed throughout the morning/afternoon. I napped. Found soccer cleats for Ivy at Play It Again Sports. She’s starting soccer this week and is all prepared now. Big relief.  Carter bought a new used car and needed help transporting the vehicles back and forth to Salem so we made a family trip of it and after we dropped him off where he needed to be, James, Luna, & Ivy and I hit up some stores for last minute school prep: Luna’s first Ulta trip (thankful to the gal helping us navigate the store & that she didn’t even...

Do you ever feel like you contain a galaxy? Inside you   And you fit it within your body, holding it in (at least that’s what we see on the outside)   No one could ever know your depths  And the strength that it takes to shoulder that wall, it all. And that this is why you seem so far away even though you are right here  This is why when we find each other  we call out. It feels so rare to be seen from so far away! (So you must be special.) (We must be special.) I’m on day two of a pretty intense anxiety spiral, facing some consequences of previous choices (or non-choices, “I'll be better off there  Where there's nothing to choose 🎶  So there's nothing to lose”)   but  I’m  being loving to myself by taking things slow, really feeling the many different waves of emotions: it is so uncomfortable but I love waves! So I’m listening to music (Portland Cello Project’s covers of Elliott Smith) with a glass of ice water, sitting in the sun. ...

Pre-divorce we had a refrigerator that could accommodate Costco trips and it had a water and ice dispenser in the door- crushed or whole. Sometimes I miss that part of that life, but not really. I was just thinking about it today with my hands deep in a bag of party size ice from the store. I transfer it into ziplocks to keep in the freezer on these hot weather stretches. The cold on my hands feels good and powerful and I like to fill my hands with as many cubes as I can. I store the rest in the mini fridge on the back porch that sometimes houses leftovers and the kids’ energy drinks     they think they’re sneaking in.   It’s Sunday night and I feel a sense of boredom. I feel like the further I get away from writing, the things distracting me start to lose their luster. That’s the only way I can explain why I get drawn back here.  The cobwebs need attention and then I remember oh, they actually have a purpose. It’s not that I forgot but it’s just not what I originall...

I am not good at keeping in touch   It’s like I have no control over this  I know  the requirement, to take part in the give and take  and that it is all my taking I can give, I am able, but it’s limited-ish?  Is what I’m trying to say.  And it’s like how I sleep sometimes I’m a turn away-er, I do it in my sleep unaware that I’m turning my back to my love it’s the way I move naturally through this atmosphere I turn  I am a rotater I do not stay still  And as I turn the lid closes behind me The lid from me to you  The draw bridge   and I do not turn to face it or try to lift or jump across. I don’t even think about it I don’t see it  I curl up, curl in  sleep It’s how my axis skews The access to me to you  I’ve tried so hard to be the one who initiates the keeping in touch.  I bought regular stamps and post card stamps and lots of notecards. They are right where I can see them but there is no will from my thought ...

To say I’ve been on edge Is not accurate just like I’m not entirely sure where the edges are in the first place     Or maybe it’s that I know I’m on the edge but I can’t see far enough to know how much room is left before I fall right off?  And how far down to the bottom anyway? I mean for all I know I’m two inches off the ground. My heart does not know the difference.  What is that? Losing my grip? Of something I shouldn’t be holding onto anyway? Today was dragging. Mondays I’m usually more upbeat but today I wasn’t and I just know it was noticeable and I hate that. But as I’ve set my compass toward being real and not faking my life anymore I’m less likely to try to hide when I’m just not feeling it. I need to get used to this “bad” feeling when I stick up for myself and can not wait for it to not feel like this someday, for me to feel like this is more me. To forget I was ever even like that.  I came right outside when I got home and watered my plants (somethi...

I’m still writing every day even if it’s not here. I decided I should let myself have days off posting and then that snowballed. But that’s what I needed and I leaned in.   I’m tired of thinking about what I want to be when I grow up. Ugh. What do I want to be in my *off time* when I grow up? What do I want to do after I get home from my job? I want there to be nature and fresh air and sky and quiet, stillness that has a rhythm. I want there to be nights of no plans, of just whatever.   I got home today and went immediately to the stove to get my pans heated for tacos and grilled veggies and rice. I poured myself an icy drink and put on a playlist and got it done, and all the toppings! And I unloaded the dishwasher and the sink is currently empty. (Note: 90% of the time Noah does all the dishes and this is only exaggerating in the way that he probably does them more often than that.) So I felt extra good for doing that so he didn’t have to!  Now I’m doing what I...