Mountain feelings, an inside job

What happened to me…
I don’t recognize myself…
I think I need to go on a long walk in Michigan to figure out how the mountains changed me…

Here. Something is swampy here, to me.  I have a picture of Michigan with the basin showing, the whole center of it is water…

I never had this thought before, or understood my own sensation of this place, prior to living 8,000 ft in the air for a week…the air was thinner, drier, and I felt calmer. Less prone to so many words…my mind was clearer, or just my emotions were, maybe.  I don’t know. It’s hard to separate what affects what. Things happened, emotions, feelings, kids conversations…so much love. Being a busy aunt when I’m usually a spacious and schedule-filling piano teacher…time alone is my usual MO, but on this trip I was rarely alone.  My bf is a lovely human who cares so much for me, but sometimes we are like co-habitating introverts, different show interests, different needs, we do a lot separately in our downtime. And I’m a transplant and all my friends live 40 minutes away…I find myself prone to isolation, solo projects, …

Why?

I mean, Colorado changed me so much somehow that I don’t even like blogging right now.  Why share all this? What am I keeping track of? Yes this challenge has been hard. Everything feels hard. Why push myself. Why not just age and have dreams I never filled like many people…why not age and realize I “meant to” be x y z and I “wish I’d” released 12+ albums but I didn’t. And just let it be one of those sad things, but also enlightening, where you realize maybe you didn’t do xyz because you were too busy having a family, caring for someone, doing other jobs, etc.

Sometimes what we actually want isn’t what we think we wanted.

Why isn’t it just okay that I never became super public about my creativity?
Why have these super self-pushy years where I MAKE myself share a song every day (instead of the 300+ songs I wrote a year, since 2015-ish, that I like and enjoy listening to alone) why share them? why think anyone else would care? they are scrappy and clearly I didn’t want to start sharing them or polishing them or I would have gotten better sound recording equipment…and when I did have my boyfriend’s to use, I did, but I kept with the scrappy thing, the tons of output in terms of number of songs, but almost no polish. Sometimes layering for fun, but an inability to get too lost in critical listening and editing…probably because I spent years on one album once, super detailed examinations of every little thing, but then no labels wanted it.  So why bother?

Maybe it’s that. Maybe it’s that I’m in an industry that I’m aging out of.

Age has been on my mind. The older I get, the more I see what a young industry this is. The only old people involved in it were famous at 22 or something…it’s not welcoming to the old and the experienced, unless there was once fame involved.  More for women, some men can keep going past 30…but most women start to…

I don’t know what I’m talking about really.

I just know I feel a lot right now, in this swamp, in my isolation…
Family in Minnesota, and Colorado now…
Here I am 11 hrs from anyone from my past, this strange start-over life here in Michigan…
Not really knowing who I am.
I stayed here for love…I think it was the right thing to do, I don’t doubt that.
But right now it just feels random.
Found family is a thing, and even that feels like it isn’t quite real or happening here…

Maybe sometimes in our lives we feel more alone than others.

Maybe not having had children, partly just due to life situation, partly due to wanting to focus on music (and now seeing what the result of that is, a life of aunt-ness, and feeling separate and semi-lonely, even with friends and a great-as-anything boyfriend…)

It’s hard to reconcile.

I have an easier life because of it.  No kids to care for or pay for.
We can take risks, we can travel.
We can focus on writing or shows.
It’s great, when it’s great.
But there is something stabilizing and grounding about caring for and carrying on a bloodline…

I feel like I’m floating in space and time and no one really needs me all that much.

While in Colorado I became aware of the stories I tell myself,
how I create a lot of my sadness…
how if I wanted I could start telling better stories.
I could stop this blog nonsense and use my time and life to imagine whole worlds like the kids stories I told my niece, about Rainbowland.
I could speak and live in metaphors and healing and symbols and save the planet by soothing hearts, not everyone but certainly more than all this weepy bullshit is healing anyone…

And honestly, I don’t remember the last time I felt like it was in my power to stop the flow of this river.

I don’t remember the last time I thought – hey F-ing trauma, and all your results on my life. Hey 9-11, hey junky boyfriends, hey traumatizing ex-husband, hey all you people I gave my time and heart to, hey PTSD in all stripes, I don’t want you, I don’t owe you anything, I’m off to live in a big F-ing fantasy and YOU CAN’T STOP ME.  I’m off to make kids books and videos – not for kids, FOR MYSELF.  Because I need a way out of the madness of my own mind, the sadness of my own heart, the broken spirit…I need a return to “Rabbitland” the musical I wrote in 6th grade for drama or speech class, I need a return to sewing pillows for Home Ec, or when I made a kids’ album once as an adult (tho it was for the wrong reasons – it was to “get famous” or make money or do something practical…as if making kids music will for sure pay off economically)…

I need to do this FOR ME.

All this trauma music, has broken me.
Listen to my Childhood album if you want to know me.
You WILL HEAR THE SHIFT.  Pre 5th grade I was all Casio pop.
5th grade on, after Sara died, and I felt the burden to soothe and heal the school (when I could have just healed myself) and it went to my head, and then everyone turned on me, and boys were mean, and I got lost in sadness all thru HS, all of that…boys, drama, being disliked, compounding my shame, not good enough-ness…never good enough…trying to change to be liked, change for others…my songs became needy, whiny, obtuse, sad sad sad…all my heroes were sad, Sarah McLachlin, Fiona Apple, rape victims all of us, abuse victims, college was sad, wanting a man to love me for who I am when honestly, I was just so F-ing sad.  Who can love that?  Other than a super human wonder, who sees broken hearts and takes them into his own?

It’s so rare, I got so lucky to find a heart who saw mine and helped my healing, and was patient with me.  I have it in my sister too.  Patience while someone heals from complete brokenness, I don’t know how anyone does it… but two people have done it for me, and countless others have helped in small ways, and honestly it just feels selfish now to continue to wallow and weep here in this swamp, to stay broken by continuing to talk about the past.   There is a world of doing, a world of being, a world to create and be and do and I know how and I see the path and I know what I can do if I’d JUST SHIFT FOCUS.  It IS that simple, I’ve made 17 “ukulele talk” recordings of inspirational stuff for teens (back in 2015) unreleased, I’ve recorded at least a dozen Rainbowland rambles, song sketches, stories, characters half-developed, I have tons of material and info that could help someone…all saved for “later” as if I need to get this out first, and maybe I’m aging myself faster, by pushing all this out.  Maybe these two years – or year and a half – of pushing, has led to realizations that would have taken me another decade.  Maybe crazy people in the world and in the news, woke me up and made me speak and tell my story and finally heal from this fame obsession and hope for becoming a Fiona Apple or Sarah McLachlin or Tori Amos or Joanna Newsom, as if that’s some easy path or good comfortable life?  To be admired? What is that? To craft?  I have already toured, many times, only twice as a singer/songwriter (plus one-off regional shows, blah blah brag moment), but for a year and a half non-stop hard touring with a children’s theatre…many people’s schedules and needs, nonstop, in a van, hotels, movement, places, not much time spent, sure it sounds cool, but it’s exhausting, you don’t belong to a place…it’s intense.  My favorite tour was all around WI/IL/MN last year, for my solo record made up in a weekend, around Thanksgiving, time between shows to see family, it was great.  Alone.  I liked it.  I could still do that, maybe kids songs too, libraries…why do I have to be something grandiose?  When and how will I get over that? I LIKE SMALL.  That’s the hilarious irony of me spending all this time to be bigger, to make my resume bigger, to be more impressive to you, Mr. Library director, or venue owner…

I don’t want your approval.

I thought I did.

I’ve wanted my own.

I’ve wanted permission to do what I actually want to do.

Not what I think I should want, not what would make me feel or look “cool” (b.s. word by the way, wake up to this people).

I want permission to go outside and breathe the air, mountain air perhaps, see the sights, realize over and over and over and over how SMALL I AM.

That’s all I want.

I was such a success junkie as a kid, ambitious by default, all the awards and As and gold stars and 1s at solo and ensemble and state and whatever whatever it’s all whatever!  It will make you MAD!

Like angry 🙂

I have my sanity.  I mean, enough to say “this is insane” – sharing all this with the world.
Except I know almost no one ever will read this, so it’s not shared with “the world.”
It’s public, just enough that I feel like I matter – that this healing matters – that this isolation is chosen, like I can break free and be part of this crazy current honest open world we’re in, where people share shit, all the time, and it’s okay, worlds don’t end, life doesn’t break wide open…it just is. It’s no big deal. It’s not news.

I’m proud to say this saves me from medication.

Crying, talking, facing things, having friends who are confidants, even if it’s only 2 or 3 or 4 of them, saves me from needing to numb it all.

This world is broken right now. I feel stirred up daily by the social war, the growing opposition we all have to each other…
it’s disgusting and terrifying to see the way we’re vilifying each other.
Christians and Liberals is what it comes down to…
Acceptance, love, tolerance…everyone who most needs these things, is the least willing to give it to each other right now…
Who started it doesn’t matter…another country, a crazy pot-stirrer in chief…

What matters is calming down.
Somehow.
Wars begin like this, and I don’t want to live in a war.  Do you?
Deep breaths everyone…
We can have conversations again, no?
Can we hear each other?
Can we see that we are each others’ enemies?
Can we try to be kind even when expressing opposing views?
I know a lot is at stake.
I know there are people whose lives are being torn apart.
But somehow, we have to communicate these ideas to each other with kindness and tolerance and even love…

I’m not saying go hug a mass murderer…

I’m saying be kind, as much as you can, when calling people out…
before anyone else feels so accused and hated that they hate you back…

I don’t know.
I hate this message. It’s not popular on either side.
I am on one side…I believe my side is right.
But I believe that makes me the enemy to the other side.
I know that.
And I don’t want to be the enemy.
I want to REALLY see “COEXIST” come to life.
Somehow, I want all these very different people (because I am a Liberal Christian, if I’m really really honest…I am very liberal, socially, in that I believe in love and tolerance and accepting people who are born with different passions and tendancies than I am, and I don’t believe its my job to have opinions on it…but I am also very Christian, in that I say the Lord’s Prayer whenever I’m afraid, I feel darkness all around this world and want to be saved, and want others to be saved from it…I don’t want anyone to suffer, I want people to know healing and peace and a deep spiritual love…I believe in my own smallness, and was raised Presbyterian, and have no reason to believe God isn’t real…my nun Grandma lived to 93 and became a nun in her 80s and no single person ever helped me more in one instance…her words, at my moment of angry despair, changed the course of my life…and it felt spiritual and necessary…I can’t make that up, also while living in NYC during 9/11, and unable to go back to my apartment because it was below 14th street, a mile from the towers, and then continuing with school even tho I was afraid, the Presbyterian church at 12 W 12th street helped me more than any other thing…in reframing my fear and sadness for humanity… so please know, you really can feel pulled to God and be a super strong liberal…I don’t know why this is hard for some people to understand…I guess if I had a million dollars, and felt the need of the world and like I had to give it all away, I’d want to protect some of it too…maybe that’s what’s really going on? Maybe I’m a liberal because I’m poor-ish and need societal help, and maybe when people escape that life, they don’t want to turn around and give it all back via extra taxes or they’d be poor again like everyone else…prosperity gospel is something else…

Sometimes I think I should edit the crap out of these, like whoa Jess don’t share all that.

Other times I think, this is the whole point – share the complex thoughts and feelings of this time, so I can remember and understand what a year of releasing an album a month felt like.

I don’t think there are answers or solutions that fix this for all people…

All I want is to know that there’s a purpose…and even that I don’t get to know.
This is a depressing place and / or maybe I’m just depressed right now.

It’s hard to come back from a trip to see family, and go on with your life and responsibilities…especially when there were mountains involved.

All these topics.
All this feeling.
This is my mountain.
I’m trying to climb upward for once in my life, not dig downward, creating holes and pockets of despair to fall into.
I’m trying to stop digging holes…
One might start by deleting this, but I think I’ll finish out the challenge, and the year of album releases, including this blog even tho it’s crazy…
and then I’ll let myself move on from this.

Whatever this is.

Writing is strange.  Words have power.  In this case, I’m HONESTLY not sure what I’m using my power for.
Is it for good? For evil? (i.e. spinning wheels, self-destruction?)

I know that it’s like dropping things into a void…

Not knowing where that void leads to…

I suppose I could also go work on the Friend Ship album…edits and tweaks and things I want to change a little, to give you something joyful and strange to listen to.  To those who like my music.

I wish I were a little less strange, most of the time.
I wish becoming who I have become could look a little more calm…

Maybe that’s why I’m sad at the loss of 8,000 feet.
I felt calmer there.
Simpler.
I don’t know why and can’t explain it.
It’s like I knew the mountains won.
The mountains were bigger than me, in every direction.
I was tiny and insignificant, but could create a simple life – teach piano, write songs, teach songwriting, it was lovely but tiny. I was tiny and everywhere I looked I was able to realize it.  No ego problems there, can’t conquer a thing.  And I miss it, cuz here I get lost in my head, lost in this swamp of feeling…and I feel big and powerful and like everyone is listening (and they’re not).  It’s just how this place makes me feel.  Both isolated (lonely) and powerful (heard)…I think it’s all in my head.  But maybe it’s not.  Maybe people are paying attention to me here, because I’ve been on the radio here or in the press, and people actually read this shit, and maybe that’s like a drug and not a good one…

Maybe the mountains helped me realize what words are worth saying.
And which ones you should leave in the dirt.

Thank you mountains, I’ll be back soon. ❤

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Dreamy Day <3 <3 <3

Hey world. Or hi you. Whoever reads these, I don’t know.

Went to a party at my friend Luna’s house last night and saw so many people I love, good times with Bryan and all the friends…I can’t remember the last time I was social with no objective like playing or listening to music…maybe when my family was here in early July?

I think it’s good for me. I forget to ever feel dreamy with others.
I think normally I feel dreamy alone and like life has objectives with others.
It’s good…feeling this.

This morning Bryan’s drum kit came in the mail from Farmers Foot Drums (well he ordered some pieces used, and bought 2 key pieces from them brand new)…it was Christmas morning here. Normally I’m rigid about waking up time and journaling (ironically, rigid about my time to relax and waking-dream)…

but instead I went to the basement with him and we had a mini jam sesh, I’m a decent chill-punk drummer (no not punk, indie rock? mellow indie pop?) – I just make shit up but it’s fun.  Bryan is a real drummer, it’s fun watching him relearn what he knew in HS.

It makes me think of art and all the things I’m not a “real” whatever…

Ryan, my dear friend, convinced me I’m a real artist too, it’s not about training.
It’s about what you love doing.
Maybe I’m a real drummer too… I find it relaxing

We had twinkle lights on and sat in the couches and floor futons usually for our guests…I rarely enjoy that space.  It’s so magical for house shows but I rarely just let myself enjoy that vibe alone.  It was a good experience this morning…

As for music…this whole busy month culminated in subbing for a college class on Songwriting.

I’m still a bit speechless about this experience.

Dan Rickabus asked me, and that alone is a speechless experience, he’s such a dream human.

And Fiona Dickinson recommended me when she couldn’t make it, and that friendship has been life-altering already, without the recommendation to sub for him…

I’m leaving out details but basically feeling too dreamy rn to write this like a story.

Just sayin, from my 2nd floor fairy room the outside looks like magic, perfect clouds, dreamy air, friends in my brain, projected in the sky…all of you, helping me and sharing with me, not just the collaborators like Jes Kramer and Micah Middaugh and Nathan K and Bryan Ralph and Maddie Jackson and Hunter Zhao and Gabrielle Schaub / Van Lente and Fiona and everyone…it’s just such a feeling.  It’s so hard to describe.  The treetops here are full of you.  I look out the window here, and see my neighbors roof and puffy white clouds on a clear blue sky and treetops..still green in this direction (tho my dreaminess started looking out the 1st floor front window at a vibrant orange tree, a pale shade but super bright somehow and dreamy…cried a little thinking about how much I’ve come to LOVE trees without leaves…it’s a line in a song now, it’s my dream, I love trees without leaves, which is like a return to something, and it makes me feel not sad about fall at all, like all this color is heading TO something, not the loss of something, or the moving away from something like summer…I know most people just see death or dying like an end, death of leaves, death of summer, i see going TO the trees without leaves, it is a look, a vulnerability, a sense of beauty and simplicity/complexity so profound that i don’t like these words I’m giving it…it’s something for me…something big and meaningful…I hate being cold, but heat is nice and bundling is nice and when the cold weather stabilizes I can adjust to it…winter storms suck but every region has its problems and things to bow down to…)

Anyway might do two albums this month because this whole challenge has limits and problems….in May I did a “not real to me” feeling album.  A sketch.  In July I did albums from pre-2014 when I said I wouldn’t.  I mean except Childhood in June.  I guess I did a lot of pre-2014…which doesn’t feel Jessica in The Rainbow to me (cuz I made that up for a 2014 release, and music before then has a different tone and feel to me, I don’t know why but writing songs in Michigan is different for me than Wisconsin or Chicago or NYC)

So I had planned to release one in July called “Tiny Traumas, adding up (or ‘out of body, in your skin’)” to honor this returning to my skin that I’ve done the past few years…but it felt thin to share that, without including my not-so-tiny traumas with you.  When I was really broken and never reassembled correctly…from middle school on, I kept waking up to things, realizations about who I was, who I was pretending to be, who I kept hidden, including pain and trauma.

So here, I shared a lot more than ever before, which is great for me…but also, it’s a lot to catch up on a life.  I can’t.  It’s not possible.  So this is just gonna look messy. Non-linear.
I want to release the kids’ music I’ve been brainstorming since early 2016 but it’ll take focus. I thought I had to be done with all this trauma music and sad songs and adult ‘career’ i.e. scene life with almost no money and not a real business, i never knew how or wanted it bad enough, sent to labels occasionally but mostly just focused on writing and sharing…or for a decade, not sharing…just becoming an indie singer-songwriter in my own private mind (mostly, some shows, spread out, 2006-2016 but having a hard time sustaining this vision of myself thru even the tiniest of disappointments)…

But I can see working a little harder with kids music.  Maybe it makes more sense to me.  Maybe I can envision having things to sell to moms.  Maybe promotion will be easier cuz I know you’re literally looking for things to entertain and educate your kids.  Maybe I don’t know enough authentically resonating mister rogers types in the world… we’ll see.  I love playing music for kids, but on my terms.  Not thru organizations that tell me to be a clown.  I have a past in this and its gross to me…smiling extra, being unnaturally hammy instead of just being a slightly more hyper version of myself, mixed with bringing it WAY down…kids vibrate in such weird ways, highs and lows, extreme play mixed with quiet intense focus on legos or something…I like reading crowds and changing for them…mellow is boring to some kids, but I think it’s good for them.  I dunno… I have a whole world invented, and characters, it’s just when I’ll have the time and focus to really prioritize this.  Maybe I never will… so that’s why I might just half-ass the Tiny Traumas album, make it super DIY original versions with almost no polish or editing, and then also release a little preview teaser of the kids album, just to announce it to the world in some way.  By world I mean my 20 or 100 or maybe 200 people who are curious about what i’m doing.  No commercial appeal really, just Facebook friends.  But I’d like to reach strangers someday, I just don’t know how yet. Learning…

Clouds.  Treetops.  Cozy teddy bear and dog sweatshirt.  Coffee with almond milk creamer in a big rainbow unicorn mug.  About to go to the Y.  Good day for a bike ride, playing some cloudlight tunes tonight at Bry’s boss’ gig at the Armory.  Kinda a throw together thing…just because.  Leaving for Colorado in a week to visit my sis, hope I can handle the altitude…tried getting more in shape but I’m just not the best worker-outer…talked with my parents for 2 hrs (almost) yesterday…they live in Minnesota, near my brother’s family, it’s a dreamy area too.  Gotta head out there soon, I try to see them all twice a year, but that’s why I’ve gotten more money-motivated.  Need money not just starving artist / piano teacher salary, if I want to visit family so much.  Never thought I’d be this spread out without being somewhere more intentional like NYC or LA.  Michigan feels random to me, and it is.  Moved here for an ex and just stayed…I’m still surprised about that.  It frustrates me every time I love it because it feels so random and bizarre to have ended up here…like the years pass by and I’m still here and I don’t know why, except love of a man I met here a year after that separation, and he needed things here, to grow into who he needs to be, and I had nothing else going on, no reason to go anywhere else (options but nothing felt perfect, except the Pacific Northwest but it felt so random too, in early 2016 it was all I thought about…) and by then I loved him too much anyway to go anywhere without him coming with me, and then that’d be random for him…

So this all just evolved.  Ladyfest, house shows, playing more shows here, caring about all of you.  Most of my friends are in Michigan now.  Most of the music I love is happening here, or is willing to tour here.  Or is near here, in Chicago.  Rent is cheap, nature is plentiful, there is a scene…it’s interesting, small, and weird.  I like it.  Sometimes when I leave, I drive back randomly north up along lake michigan (I’m from Wisconsin) and think, this is so random or “I hate it here.”  Cuz I really do in some ways.  There’s a spiritual intensity here that isn’t in other places, especially Chicago or NYC or London…or Appleton really…it was academic.  I loved that.  Racine was just a place, devoid of a specific one feeling, I liked that too.  Minnesota too…it’s spacious like a prairie.  I don’t know, this area feels dense like a forest and full of magic and full of God and I don’t know what.  I feel like I’m protecting something.  I feel like I’m convincing all of you to stay on the path of light.  I feel like there is a propensity for darkness here and light takes effort and intention.  I don’t like that.  I don’t like how easily some people here skew to the dark.  I’ve talked about this with non-native friends, how many people we know or knew need anti-depressants here…something feels extra heavy.  The politics, the spiritual or religious shaming, the warring beliefs, it’s intense like the densest of forests and even people on the same sides don’t agree on things…

I wish I could wave my arms and make it all stop and say NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW and look around you and here here here here here…be here. See the birds and trees and light and color, you are in paradise, you are fighting over future things while living in paradise…but I know I’m wrong, people want us to zone out so they can power grab and money grab and create systems that are toxic and self-serving like more money and cushy jobs while people in Flint literally DIE YOUNG from poisoned water…they may not have died young yet, but someone who has had her life ruined in ways by trauma, I know what it feels like to have physical ailments that shorten your quality of life…I haven’t died yet or anything, duh, but I think about all these injuries in my body, all the ways I was checked out and pushed thru pain and jobs I shouldn’t have, and…

Blogging is weird.  I want to apply the philosophy I use when writing is private, which is say anything let it flow.  But this IS public…so sometimes I feel a tangent spinning and think, hmmmm….

Giant aloe plant to my left…like 18 aloe plants in one, need to repot these babies.
Spider plants too, EVERYWHERE.  So many babies…

I’m realizing how strange it is to have friends.
I think I’ve moved so much, or my friends have moved, how hard it is to feel close to anyone when you’re not being real.  When you’re being a construct.  Most my life I’ve been a construct.  Maybe since 6th grade traumas?  I won’t tell you those because my life feels almost painfully non-private sometimes, of my own choosing, and some of these middle school ones are sacred wounds to me…they are the source of it all, and why I took a strange path, and prior to middle school, I look at elementary school me, and I make sense.  My code lines up with my personality which lines up with my actions which lined up with my thoughts…I remember the feeling of elementary school me and things felt direct.  Severe trauma, sexual or otherwise, breaks the connection I think.  Makes people float outside their own lives, observing it, wondering about it, examining and “trying” to be something

Some people try to be something for money or for a business.

I LITERALLY CANNOT RELATE TO YOU.

I’m worried a bit that I’ll never find financial success of any kind because I just can’t – or refuse to – structure a life.  My life.  This one lifetime.  The only time I’m this age, releasing albums in this way, being this version of me, in this place, doing these shows, being friends with these people, feeling these things, dreaming these dreams…it’s all so…

Anyone can see their life this way.  It feels dreamy to see your life like this moment is beautiful…even in its pain and things not going your way.  It’s the only time you’ll be this age, at this moment, it’s the youngest you’ll ever be again, it’s now.  It’s something profound to me.

I wish I could just transfer this feeling into your heads instead of all these words I give to you.  Because my words probably stir up thoughts that aren’t useful to what I hope to share in the world…

Maybe I need to finally write that piano-only album…

Or improvise it

Once upon a time that was my intention too.  But it’s…it’s all so much.
A life like this…do you know I want to put all three musicals I wrote online somehow (2 are collaborative, one with an MIA collaborator, the other is, well hey Danny, lemme know if we should update that music someday…)

I literally can’t keep up with what flows through me.  The more I try to keep up, the more ideas and hopes and dreams the universe seems to give me…plus the more people know me, and ask me to be part of things.  It’s impossible, it’s too much, but it’s a dreamy kind of too much, and I’m learning to say no, for the first time in my life, I can feel it in my bones that NO is a superpower, learning to measure and consider and weigh options and choose based on how strong a pull something has…versus if it feels nice or neutral or friendly, but would take up all my time, I walk away from that now.  But if it feels intense like the best dream, like HEY I wanna be professor someday…you mean I get to try it NOW? and then putting every molecule into thinking about that for a week, while getting to try it (thank you again Dan!!!) I mean wow.  How did I never learn this…to measure things against that excitement and relevance…and leaving free space in my life like pockets, watching for that resonance and connection…

Here.  Right here.  Bryan just came in, to be in my presence but also cuz we have YMCA plans that I’m delaying by being so chatty here.  He is a gentle strangely patient soul for how intense and deep he is.  He runs very deep and has very strong opinions, but he leaves the surface of himself calm like still waters…it’s different, it’s something I’ve never known.  It’s the opposite of things I’ve known…the deeper someone runs in my experience was often the more tumultous they were.  Maybe it’s just cuz he tries to keep his deeper waters to himself (haha and we are so different, I keep sharing mine more and more with ‘the world’ and it helps me…I think this wouldn’t help some people, it brings more energy into the mix).

I hope everyone finds people they resonate with.  Friends, family, lovers, boyfriends, partners, whatever you resonate with, I hope you seek it…my sister was my best friend for 10 years and I learned to hear her direct frank opinions before I could ‘handle’ Bryan (he’s very direct about things, that used to rock my boat so much…like in Chicago I couldn’t hear any negative feedback on anything, was way too fraglie, probably why I didn’t release most things, and hid out inside a dysfunctional relationship…I mean all relationships have dysfunction, but that one was particularly toxic for me…nothing is without its benefits though, and maybe I needed to hide then…)

Back to clouds.  Grayer now.  Tree tops.  White car.  When I was a kid I would be bored in my day-dreaminess sometimes and I made up a game…white car meant yes, red car meant maybe, black car meant no…what did green car mean?  I never wondered that, or blue?  Maybe like closer to black or white like kind of?  I don’t remember.  Anyway I would ask the universe questions and pretend the cars answered them.  Sometimes with decks of cards too (red yes, black no).  And I knew it was imaginary and / or super unlikely that the universe could correlate / co-create my questions based on what car or card would come by, but despite the imaginary quality it always led to interesting ‘answers’ which provoked more and better questions…I loved it.  It was super random and filled time and made me feel dreamy, like the universe could talk.

I later came to feel like I could hear God himself, but that’s another story for another day.  One that is unfinished, and the narrative keeps changing.  Even if it’s all imagination, it feels like a charmed life.  And it certainly keeps the songs and words flowing…

Love to you, peace on this day, find things that soothe your soul, be a maker like me.  Make your home, make your schedule, make your time, make up your mind, anything…don’t just consume.  Express.  I don’t know if sharing broadly has any value, but I did this privately for 10+ years before sharing like this here, and it had a personal value to me, becoming such good friends with myself.  Hope you find this too.  xoxo Jessica