what I'm carrying

I've spent the last few days deep in thoughts about 2015. A word for the year. My space. Both physical and emotional. My body. My home. My hips. Relations. Longings and releases. All of it.

I will meet with 40 in just a few weeks. We are in fiery negotiations now. Forty and I. Contract meetings. Dress code decisions. Mediation. To sort out what I want. What I need. All of it.

This morning I woke up and thought "What will I carry forward? What do I want to carry into this New Year?"

So 2015 feels like a big deal in so many ways.

I don't want to carry all of this old stuff forward. A wound from my past came up the other night and I was instantly swirling into the depths of anger. I felt it all like it was just happening for the first time. It was my depths calling me in. Letting me know that this wound is ready to be mended. Again. It needed my attention. And I'm giving it my all. I know that I can't carry it forward. That it really is time to let it go. For me. And for me alone. I know that it affects those that I love and that love me. But this round.... it's on me.. All of it.

I've been lighting a lot of fires lately here in Florida. Letting it all burn. Because I don't want to just bury it. I want it incinerated. Gone. Charred fragments in the wind. Never to be held again.

I posted on instagram this morning and said "I want to say no to all the things. I want to stay in when everyone else goes out. I want to eat creme brulèe for breakfast with a doppio and whip cream. I want to wear a black slip to the restaurant (with bare feet and red nails) I want champagne with a cheeseburger. I want to strip it all down. Bare walls. Bared soul."

What are you carrying into this year? What really begs for a space in your life that just doesn't belong in 2015? Before you can settle upon what you do want, you have to really look at what you don't. It's dirty work. It's painful. But it's also brings about the deepest sense of freedom. It's all yours. All of it.

Love. What calls from your root? The deep parts. The secret longings? It's time to make a space for it. 2015 feels like a start. Reinvention is a daring beautiful thing. Let it come. Meet it at the door and sit down to see what it offers.

 

Sea Hags and Granny Panties

plasticaltars.jpg

I texted my friend Anya a few weeks ago and said “I’m tired of all the same things. I’m tired of the word gypsy and all the mermaid craze. I’m tired of boho and tribal. Basically, I’m tired of myself.”

I attempted to bury the thoughts for a bit to lower them into the ground and throw a handful of dirt over them. Little Lazarus’, they keep resurrecting themselves. Whispering and pulling on their leash. Not letting me go. Me not really wanting them to.

As magical time would have it, last weekend I donned a tiny dress and some moccasin boots and picked Anya up from the airport. {I’m not even going to tell you about the weekend. You wouldn’t believe most of it if I did. Like for real, you would think I was lying.}

I’ve been back in my nest for 5 days, but long before I left the weekend, I had this sense of urgency. That some things in my life needed a big time overhaul and that some things just needed to be burned to the ground. That a change must occur or I would be lying on the ground also, covered with grains of time and dried up things.

I was thinking about it in the shower just now. (Any kind of water always fuels my minds energy.) This lack of feeling for anything labeled gypsy-boho-mermaid and I realized I want something else.

I want to be a sea-hag. Not a mermaid. I want to be with the thieves, not the new day gypsies. I want to be in the dive bar, not at Whole Foods. I want messy plastic altars not shiny stained glass windows.

I’m tired of all the sparkly trendy things. I want realness. I want the depths. The unglamorous. Dirty real.

I want your granny panties and your dirty little secrets. I want your vulgar language, rather than your pretty poetry.  I want your whiskey instead of your fancy cosmopolitan. I want to eat with my fingers and lick them when I’m finished. I want a half smoked cigar, and some too short shorts, while I lay out tarot cards that I don’t even understand.

I am tearing down the matching curtains in my RV and covering the windows with mismatched sheets and faux sheepskin. I’m hanging disco balls instead of fairy lights. I'm donning a furry vest and some thrift store jeans. I'm listening to Kendrick Lamar on repeat and dreaming of being a pace car driver.

Forget Pinterest worthy photos. I just want to see your piles of clothes and your too full garbage. Your streaked mascara and your stacked up dishes. Your crying child and your unswept floor.

I can’t think that I’m alone in this longing, but I’m making peace with the fact that it may be only me who is ready for this revolution. I’m fine with being on the other side of the coin.

I am here.  I am renovating my life. I am letting go of all that no longer serves me. I am done pretending so that I’ll have more readers or more likes. I’m making no promises about what may take place in this space. Because even I don't know what will be here.

Before Anya arrived, I texted her and said “I want to re-invent myself” and I did that last weekend and once you do that you can’t go back. You can’t lean back wards towards what was. {And you don't want to.}

I can’t ignore these voices anymore. I’m throwing a tea party and inviting only the mystics and the drunks. I'll be the one on the dance floor with the tiny dress and the uncombed hair.

 

 

 

 

Goodness

I'm in one of those seasons. Surrounded by such shiny goodness. Even in the midst of all the things that are really tough, I keep seeing abundance. In relationships, in my body, in my home.

I thought it might be good to bring some here. To share it if you need some. To beg of you to share your own. Or just to give you hope filled wings that it's still out there, swirling around.

I just saw that Mandy's book is free in eBook form. If you've not yet read it.. what are you waiting for? It's changed me. I live in an RV, I don't keep books around if they're no good. Space is limited. I have two copies... go now.

Blushing Wild starts on Sunday. I am giddy over this course. I spilled my guts out in it and shared some pretty daring photos.. similar to this one.

If you follow me in Instagram you might've seen that I was at a tattoo studio last weekend. Would you like to see what transpired? Oh good, because love, I'm showing you.

{It's in the peeling stage, but I was anxious to share with you.}

{It's in the peeling stage, but I was anxious to share with you.}

My baby daddy and I have never gotten tattoos together, we usually take turns. But we decided to go for it, right now. I got the alchemy symbol for water, because of my love for the oceans and the depths, he got the symbol for fire. I am in love with them. I also got the crescent moon on my finger. {And now I want the rest of my fingers done}

We've been parked in the same spot since April, it's a record for us. My feet and soul are restless. I'm ready in anticipation of where we are off to next. Hopefully very soon.

I began a whole30 this month. It began as a desperate attempt to heal my womb. I don't usually do well with restricting foods. I tend to rebel to greatly. But something this time has been different. I'm no longer calling it a whole30 because I've strayed a bit. But stayed mostly paleo/primal. I cannot even begin to tell you how amazing I feel. Turns out, my body loves whole foods, no grains, no sugar. Just real food. I am relishing in how magical I feel right now.

I have some really great things on the horizon. Starting with Money Salt +Bone. It doesn't end there, I think it's a beginning really. And I have a girl crush on beginnings.