Update: Sold. Not the HUGE payday that got me hot n bothered for a second, but I am not disappointed by that - it's enough - and entitled motherfuckers write checks with their mouths that their asses can't cash. But tiz worth noting that I am no longer the only person who thinks like that. EVERYONE in this ENTIRE process has come down to "who do you trust". Nowhere on any contract does it say that, but that's the new economy. I see it everywhere. People find jobs, work, housing - all the Maslow things - through friend networks, reverting to trading/barter economics. When offers came in, we reviewed the WHOs in Whoville and made the final decision based on the WHO factor. We accepted the offer made by and through personally trusted folks, even though the other offer looked better on paper. Since we don't know the WHOs of the cash offer, we only can imagine how that person might fuck me over. There is no benefit of the doubt anymore.

He said that for me it matters TO WHOM. He is 100% right. And that still might just be a ME thing when it comes to intimacy. My problem only (?)

But I see it applying across other vectors of life now, more and more. Blowhard is creating an ecomomy of VIRGOS. So here we are, at the first "when". I have done what it took to say when about one thing to one person. As promised. 

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). Your mindset has shifted. Your emotional energy has changed. Because of this, the world looks different to you. It's evidence that reflects the work you've done internally.

So I've been told. Mostly as an accusation. Yes.

Today is the aspirational "review offers day". Either this strategy worked or it didn't. If it didn't, I lost a 5-digit bet. If so, I'll survive, one way or another, but I am not going back to a 'way it was' that broke me, regardless. 

My kids are all adults now, yet with me in this waiting. If you wouldn't wish your life on your kids, don't model it for them - a touchstone rule of mine. I am praying 🙏 today is a happy one, but it might very well give me nothing but more shit. So, it matters most that my rudder is deep enough for storms. Because life hands you a lot of storms, the worst often of your own making.

My youngest kid, who does not believe in private property in the first place, is waiting it out while visiting her father. EX has not changed. He's living on a bucolic farmette that M inherited. My daughter is texting me true heartbreak about his divorce from reality, feeling sick, in real time. Your parents matter allllll your life. So no matter what, bravely and soberly is how I have to face today. And even if the strategy does work, it's not a "success", it's a successful way to face how much/many I have failed. And my children are all as aware of that as I am.

Fight is exhausting, flight has been exhausted. 

song tbd

A wave of panic washed through me, but I grabbed the feeling and pushed it down, felt it fall through my body, pool on the ground around me and evaporate. Fear could not help me. Magic might. ~Sycorax

I unblogged all (below) after writing it last night, not happy with how short the words fell to capture what it feels like to send myself out of myself like that. I'd have to be able to paint, like my mother, because tendrils of intent streaming out of me doesn't have words. It's healing - which goes both ways - and makes everything else recede to the background. 

With almost no warning, I had to flee because the buyer my heart wishes to lay a hand on, want this take this from me, suddenly reappeared at 12:20 wanting in at 12:30. So I threw on clothes (...wait did I remember underwear?),

Yes.

jumped into the truck w dogs and just DROVE. Found myself at a nursery, no shade, so sitting in the AC looking at a pink flamingo of all things. Guess I would have to buy it. 

I tried "play me a song", hit the radio button - it opened to an ad about healing hearts at CHI cardiac. 

So I'll pick. 

one more dance around the sun - great lake swimmers

Not for nothing, the man last night looked (in peripheral vision) kinda like the Mr Potential in my house atm

------------------

Last night, putting it back up for now because I was spellcasting with no purpose except pure intention:

I get there, but it's not her, the schedule just hadn't been updated to account for her leaving (it's hard to keep up with all the ghosts). The new teacher, graceful tall blonde around my age, is nervous. She's not NEW new but she's not used to a whole clutch of newbies ("home from college") who uh are about to a get a not-relaxing yoga experience and not be able to do it by half and maybe barf. The teacher asks me to practice in the center at the front so they can watch me. Sure, no sweat. Behind me is a clutch of college girls (Groupon, prolly). Flanking me are two young men, bearded both, furry - you get the picture. They are not new, they're injured. The teacher has told them all to watch me and do what I do. But they can't, I don't know them or why but they have modification blocks which are like prosthetics sorta that you use to do something for you that you cannot do. 

So. I have to do the whole class perfectly. Any winging it I might allow myself on the reg, I can't do that or I will risk injuring them. I mean, I woulda kept to the traditional practice just for the girls, but they're like green twigs at that age, you can't break em, all they need is an encouraging smile. But these dudes aren't that young, old enough to need a fix-it. They need more than a smile.

This isn't, believe it or not, an erotic story. 

It's not lost on me that they are beautiful and that's probably part of why. But it isn't lust that comes over me. A STRONG urge to be PERFECT, as far as I can be, and RESPONSIVE in the peripheral, try to understand the injury(s). Understand: perfection and responsiveness are opposite, like 'by the book' v 'what works'. In a perfect practice, you only look at your own two eyes in the mirror. That's the whole point. All the sweating is to help you beat yourself as hard as you gotta to be able to do THAT. So I can only look at me. They're shadows that I can see just well enough to know the broad strokes. So I can only utterly control myself and offer what they can follow. And I am flawless - it's been 19 fucking years doing this, flawless is the easy part. What is difficult is sending all of it outward toward them with all my attention, and to make micro adjustments as I go that might make it possible for them to do without the prop-ups. By halfway through, I have honed in on the guy to my right. Pain btw shoulder blades or maybe a chest problem, one or the other is fucked up, and it's the same problem either way: constricted. Either convex or concave. 

I can't explain the practice itself, like the specifics, except one way: with my own body. That. That thing. And it works. Small example, changing my breathing and slowing it and willing him to match it. And he does, and doesn't give up the mod but does get back up off the mat and tries again. The more he breathes, the less he gives up. And I am focused completely, everything else falls away. I am willing my body into the perfect expression of the postures, slowly, methodically, STOPPING when he does, taking another breath (I could always use one too), and so on. I do this with all my body (like how other people would say "with all my heart"). At no point am I thinking about fucking this guy, he is not in a fuckable category right now. But what I am doing is the sexless version of sex. I am talking to this man, about pain and when to back off it, push but not to breaking, find that line and accept it. You can't move forward if you don't know where you're at, and the only way to know is to push yourself until you hit your limit for today and accept it. I say all that to him with my body.

took this earlier, first of a "building back" series

We never exchanged a word, respectful curt nod only.

VIRGO

Sunday, August 03, 2025

As if overnight, somebody's thoughts about a situation (I'm happy to cat-sit for free, I love kitties!!) may well have crumbled beneath the weight of their feelings about a situation (e.g. I've developed allergies, I'm overwhelmed with responsibilities, you can pay me or forget it!). So bear that in mind as a management hint.

I am aware. "It's right there" = behind the thick glass of a hyperbaric chamber. I finished the movie (in pieces around fleeings), so I know what "say when" means now and that now isn't when I get to say it. About anything to anyone.

A Night in the Ground - Trent Willmon

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). Resentment weighs too much. You're better without it. Say what you want. Say no. Say yes to your own fun, your own peace, your own right to take up space with joy. You don't need a reason. Just do it.

 

"your right to take up space with joy" sounds like something my mother would say

straight line - keith urban 

I want to go to Paradox with him and get a growler because I just want to. 

born running out of time - lukas nelson "..don't outpace my heart lalalaaa" 

"summoning different time"

In a right-tided world, we would both be Okay. And in my work, case studies like his would be part of how I do it, and he would no longer be in the place of actively being a case study. He is writing me a second one now - don't think I've forgotten the case study of the kid, oh no - quite the contrary, that trauma is now part of the failure of "whole person care" case study if (when) nobody, EVEN THOUGH THEY KNOW HIS ASS, connects the dots between the stress test tomorrow and STRESS. Will he connect dots, out loud? What does "know better" mean in this case? It's not an easy answer. There are costs for exposing your whole person, which could cause new traumas, folks are very rightfully guarded.  How does a trauma brain parse all that? 

I see a pattern of his ONE, I extrapolate. How many parents of children who have had a traumatic life threatening protracted illnesss themselves grow ill with trauma-related disease such as panic attack disorder? Subset the healthcare worker parents. Story of one, closely read it. Then widen the lens and there it'll be, a pattern. I am rarely wrong, honestly, about this kinda stuff. Take a little pattern you saw (through his eyes), go get grants. 

Or, this time, change the tide of the earth 🌊 . Cz fyi, case 3 of these interlocked case studies so SOUTH easily. This, the parent, would be C-2. Good doctoring needs to happen in C-2. Not just technically good, I mean insightful. 

I do (did) have a lot of fun with getting good at this. But it's not worth a damn if it doesn't save a life right now. Two of them. 

I have faith in my mother. God shines through her. I will never know exactly what my mom said to him, and fretted about it at the time, but it doesn't matter. Whatever it was sent him upstairs with an ear to ear smile that was 100% authentic, and that kiss was happy. And seeing him like that made me feel good. 

It's right there. I just need to change the tide of the earth 🌊. 

Update: Wheeeeeeeeeeeeew 🚬 my nerves are shot. But, another day ✅️  It takes a village, they used to say. Feels too hard and messy for that metaphor now. I think it takes a warm pile of people who are intimately aware of each other's chosen battle: To Be Okay (Really). That's it. Stop everything else (NO) except Yes. 

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). You're in this spot for a reason. Maybe you're still growing into it — that's how it works. The ones who care most always wonder if they belong. That question doesn't hold you back. It keeps you awake, aware, rising.

The pest control kid stopped by yesterday, rebait the rat boulders, a thing Nebraska pays for that I figured it'd just end when I leave so no need to talk about it. But everyone takes pics now, of every delivery, of every service, to prove it's been done. So a pic goes to him of the house and I get an email almost immediately "wishing me luck" with the sale. It's inevitable. All he has to do is send the dogs a treat from Chewy, and boom, gets a photo. It took less than 24 hours to track my life decisions and inform me of his power to do so in the form of "being supportive". 🤮 And today, I will have to flee, go to the cottage for starters, dogs in tow, their collars tracking us all. In the jeep, whose payments I must make, but he dealt with annoying shit like pairing the phone ... both his and mine, so, I assume he can just track the truck itself if he wants. There is nothing I can do about any of that but hold steady while triggered. There is nothing I can do about being triggered half to death between that shit and my house full of people today, pawing my things, me racing to find my grandma's squashblossom so I can put it in the safe that takes 10x to get open, which is why I hid it God knows where in the first place. Steady steady steady, eat something, breathe.

That is all I can control: me. That's it. Until I am on the other side of this, all I can control is ME, my physical person, which hovers at 100 pounds of what feels like pure grit held together by will in the shape of a woman, more or less. I am my own sandstorm to walk through. 

Later, I calmed down hearing about blowtorching hearts to play tetris, which soothed my nerves a lot. Report to shrink, haven't seen him since the kiss she saw, but he is "there" as I go through this, as am I for him, which she will affirm (fyi, if you had a shrink she would affirm having a 'psychological support system', believe it or not we're healthy, all things being relative). 

Although this feels like an extreme test of my ability to accept it, it's simply true that all I can control ANYTIME, always, is me. That's it. And my body will die, some dumb bloodglob is gonna take me down, so ultimately I cannot control that either. Except today. 

(Shrink will remind me, TODAY, that's why some people count days sober, to keep track of that CONCEPT, today is what you have, not to just endure but to be in fully.)

Today I can get up (I am doing so right now, writing myself awake). The menagerie will arrive soon and grab stuff to move, what we can, 2 women and umpteen kids including a pissy turkeyball who will cry if not held, so 3 adult hands (1 gotta hold the damn baby).

"Turkeyball"

Then me and the dogs in the 2-faced jeep to take a shrink appt on my phone in a parking lot or side of the road, then stay out all day somehow with panting dogs and sweaty kids, all while my home is being poked and prodded, my collages taken down and put back crooked, a million ways that it's just ME somehow that is being sold. And I must allow it. And I must land at 6 pm at yoga for my friend's last class, no matter what, so I will work backwards from that, from what matters most (your People). 

Grieving - Leith Ross

how to save a life - wyatt flores

That ("idea stealers and greedy feelers") is what came to mind today, as the showings begin and my horoscope says I hit a sweet spot where I am paid for what I have to offer, and I thought "being wanted, me or my stuff, isn't the problem - if they want it they try to take it and if it's me they want then they knock me down to take that too". So. Yeah. This house, I could SEE IT, and others could not (thanks Dad for my house-eyes). Now it looks like what it was, Buffalo in its first hayday. It was built by the people who cast Buffalo's spell, the Queen city of lights and theaters, artists and performers, the walls covered in mirrors to reflect it back, two Lucille Balls for the price of one at every party literally. And while I restored it, I built a whole discipline around the suffering people who really live, work, and die here in hospitals on fire and under fire. The house has been broken into or invaded umpteen times now, and that career was stolen. Everything, the end of my world, "they", the powerfuller, came and took everything. Tried to pay for it with compliments, like glass beads for land. Metaphor intended, as it included "thank you for all you have (had)", an acknowledgement that I will never forget the mouthfeel of. Many hard lessons that I needed. To reTHINK, reverse blink.

Weekly oracle: 

VIRGO

 (August 23-September 22)

The love-fakers and promise-breakers and delusion-makers are no fun, but I think you will ultimately be grateful they helped you clarify your goals. The reverse healers and idea-stealers and greedy feelers are perilous to your peace of mind in the short run, but eventually they will motivate you to create more rigorous protections for your heart, health, and stability. In conclusion, Virgo, it's one of those odd times when people with less than pure intentions and high integrity can be valuable teachers.

"Healing yourself is connected with healing others", Yoko Ono

"A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream you dream together is reality", John Lennon 

The Yoko quote came up among shrinks. What you have to do to heal is not selfish, it is in service to others (reverse blink). When I looked it up for the original context, I found it's paired with that quote of his ubiquitously. 

"The term "hierophant" is the name of the fifth card in the Major Arcana of the Tarot deck, often depicted as a religious authority figure like a pope or priest. In the context of Tarot, the Hierophant embodies tradition, spiritual guidance, and structured learning."

The original/traditional card looks like the pope and represents teachers. To make my own set, I considered every symbol and intention of the original, then made collages that would work ON ME, that would bring to mind what the card intends but in MY language. So, when I must rely on my spirit (mind and body drained), what kind of spiritual guidance would help me? Who/what mentors me? The spirit of home, Buddha that sat by the door in Lewiston, flowers from my own garden, a mason jar not a fancy thing like what holds communion wafers, the woods not a church. And that photo of John and Yoko, "wholly giving over" (trust). 

I do too much. I wear myself out and deprive others of their ability to DO TOO. I know that. It is a strength that can be a weakness (all strong suits have a weakness). I am doing my very best to heal, stop the spiral, turn this all around. I send naked pictures, summoning time. I post songs, serenading. But HE is naked, in that photo, not her. Don't get me wrong, it makes me feel soooo much better to take a shower, smear myself with butter, pull on silk, send photos, serenade beneath the window of his phone - all that helps ALIVE. And I have no intention but to More Alive. 

🤔 But if it helps me, doing those things, would it help him to do them / send pics / his versions of seduction, whatever they are now? ALIVE-wise? That hadn't even occured to me. Until today. (And it ain't like I don't want it, duh. I'm just an idiot.)

Lay down I wanna talk to ya - Dierks Bentley

I was going to unblog this but I will let it stand for how today felt

Update: Final walk thru, last details of the contract discussed. I'll sign it in the morning. I can't whip thru it quickly enough on an e-sign (they make you read the fucking thing). I don't even want to think about it any more. It hurts, Leaving. Even if you want to go. Because let's face it, nobody ever wants to Leave. Nobody goes anywhere if they are safe and happy and FULL enough where they are. People flee what's killing them 😶🤮. Or they die. It's pretty simple and really hard.

It feels like I have to wrench myself out of myself to save what is salvageable. I'm good at it. Doesn't mean I don't half hate being good at such a terrible thing. So satisfying but only if it saves a life. I built a LOT here, it was, is, the prettiest house I ever will live in. A millionaire's house restored completely. People are stunned by it, how good it all looks (on paper).

"dusk"

But it was not like what I built in Lewiston. It was not a happy home. There were some happy times in it, but. Not like home. Not like 'the only thing missing is'. Nope. I've been as broke to shit, glimmering in plain sight.

I know there can be no Living part until Leaving gets done. But it's very hard. It feels like someone shoving something under my sternum. I call it a sob jab. I want to fold forward around it. A rubberband ball of ouches. That fucker has got to GO. Maybe shitting out kids makes me more able to know when it's time to bear down? Now.

Once it's done, it's done. There was no choice, this "living" isn't sustainable without fatal injury. One must love one's life not just withstand it like a tinman in the rain, stuck without drool. 

If you wouldn't wish your life on your kids, do not model it for them. 

The agent thinks it'll be sold inside a week. As soon as it's contracted, then the moving can begin. Starting with everything marked his/yours, everything from Lewiston, I've more than used my timeshare up on OUR home, now it is his/yours. Or moving it can wait til closing if that's too ouchie still, i.e. after Tawista, which is 2 weeks from today, Sun- Sun. 

I want turnovers from the bakery in Inlet. 

Aside from the mountain of legalities and the raw pains of moving, I don't know what comes next that's sweet beyond the turnover (hopefully) and promised rambling meaning of life's absurdities conversation(s) "under the covers with sushi". I love that phrase. It makes NO sense, which is perfect. 

Right now, I only need to believe in an afternoon. 

GEMINI (May 21-June 21). You are trying to be kind, generous and honest in an ecosystem that punishes those very things. When your tactics don't work, leave and try them somewhere else. A thriving person is often a well-placed one.

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). A royal play is unfolding. Someone will re-enter your chambers, not to conquer but to be conquered. And you will never even lift your scepter. The force of your presence, the power in what you've already commanded, the scent of your power will do the rest.

The final days of Venus in Gemini offer a chance to connect, flirt, explore and express without the weight of definition. In this airy phase, the heart gathers impressions, tries on possibilities, flits from thought to feeling like a butterfly choosing its bloom. If something matters, name it now — before the current turns inward and tides roll home.

Name it now: I want the 💝asstat next time, if there is a next time, like that, with anyone, to be on me. I want to have a return address. I cannot imagine doing that. I cannot imagine exactly what those feelings even are, is what I am saying. 

Doesn't matter how or why, who died or didn't, upshot is I found a revision of "the talk" in my own head/heart/body: If anyone is getting a name 💝asstat, it's me. Like name and serial # so that what's left of me will be returned to the person who would cry the most / give a shit / want the battered pieces.

"A body cannot feed when its heart is filled with yearning." ~ Sycorax, Nydia Hetherington

No, it cannot. And I am not hungry. The listing goes live tomorrow. Today, I must throw out all food. Kitchen empty of (my) life, so they (whoever they are) can imagine theirs here. From now on, I will either waste $ I dont have not-eating alone in restaurants, or I will eat alone in restaurants. smib

Feel free to play the 'play me a song game' as I chorechorechore...

lotus #2 coming up ft clockwork - each its own little milestone 

"But hush. My thoughts make too much noise." ~ Sycorax, Nydia Hetherington

I could use a love song - little girl with shih tzu (maren morris cover)