What is it?

What are you focused on? What are you working towards? What is up ahead? What Mountain are you climbing? What is at the top? What will your reward be?

- A flower garden?

- A lover that really gets you?

- A pay increase?

- More play and less stress?

- A friend or lover?

- A trip to Spain?

- A little plot of land in the mountains?

- A steady income?

- A closet of clothes that feels like you?

What do you go to bed thinking about? What do you wake up thinking about?

For me, it's so complicated. Yet, so simple.

In a lot of ways, I have accomplished many of my dreams. I have a lover who honors and respects me. I have a beautiful son. And I have a cozy home in the mountains. But my soul longs for more. I dream of community and art that will start movements. I dream of spontaneous road trips. I dream of peace, beauty, ease, connection, power and sacredness.

I guess I dream of feeling good most of all. Feeling good and doing good. I'm still just a girl who carries around a heavy soul with a pocket full of dreams. And a head full of questions.

God, please send more dreamers my way. Send us an anchor so we don't drown in our sea of ideas.

Current happy moods:

Good Coffee

Ashwagandha

Sex in the middle of the day.

Billy Strings on the radio.

Cold beer (crushing on this one)

Writing poetry

Listening to this podcast

or this one

Astrology with Virginia Rosenberg

Dreaming about Camp Happy Mundo

The Artist Way by Julia Cameron

Low Gluten and Dairy

photo via pinterest

Wonder with me for a moment. .

When a dream is realized but it's not how you imagined. . .

something is out of place,

missing

or perhaps the color hue needs adjusted-

just slightly.

What do you do?

What do you do when you long for a place that no longer exists?

Or maybe it does exist, but not in the same way you remembered

Things have grown and so have you.

The place is different and so are you.

How can a dreamer be satisfied when the dreamer's dream is

actually a living nightmare?

Fear runs the month. Under the supervision of the past.

Anxiety rules over the year. Under strict supervision of the future.

vvvvvv INSERT MOM RANT (for context) vvvvv

My body hurts from carrying a 22lb baby around. Picking him, putting him down, tossing him in the air, fighting him to get his diaper on because apparently that isn't . . . fun for him. . .??? I smell like old milk. It's disgusting. I don't know what my personal style is anymore, since I can't breastfeed easily in the majority of my wardrobe, but that really doesn't even matter these days. I'm mentally checked-out. See-ya bye. I'm actually on a beach somewhere quiet. with a cold "mommy beverage" and a book, getting a massage with no pressure to do anything afterward but lounge and read a book and drink hot coffee. Yep, hot coffee and a cold bubbly drink . . . give 'em to me. No one touch me. Except for the massage person.

If I have to research one more thing about babies in the next 24 hours, I am going to combust. My brain can't take it. There is so many conflicting opinions and studies and parenting styles and people out there preaching "rights and wrongs". Bah! I don't know what the right thing to do is!? I don't feel 100% great about any decision we make and that makes me feel awful. I'm already bad about making decisions and now I have to make them for someone else! YIKES.

But, I'm not on that beach. Nope, I'm with my adorable family. In my adorable cabin-home nestled in my adorable little woodland cove. Plagued with guilt of feeling depleted and grey and ungrateful and soulfully ugly.

*** Ok, rant over. Phew.***

I did not dream of this. It just happened. Careful, sleepwalkers! You, too, can wake up in a strange reality. Left to wonder: Where the heck am I? How did I get here? And where do I truly belong?

"Where do I belong?"

I left a mom group today questioning where I belong. I felt out of place. Even though, all the moms were nice and great and we had babies around the same age and we lived close by and we all brought fruit. . . still, I found myself getting quiet and falling into the background as they started to share about their medicated hospital births and sleep training techniques and going back to work. When I was asked about my methods- I seemed to have the "outcasted" method of parenting. So many thoughts flooded my mind "OMG, am I doing this wrong?" "Ah! Do they think I am doing this wrong?!" "I want so badly to be liked so we can hang out and I can not go insane on this journey. . . "

I knew this was all bull shit. (My thoughts, that is.)

I knew I was being overly paranoid and sensitive.

I also knew that this wasn't where I belonged.

And that was fine.

This question of belonging has been eating at me. . . I tried journaling about it. Where do I feel at home? Where do I feel like I can be 100% me and feel supported. Where does my heart long to dwell? It's been a while since I have felt true belonging.

Can I create that special dwelling place? If so, what does it look like or feel like? And will others join me? Or will it just be a wall around me and my own "special thoughts and things". I'm good at creating castles where only I live and reign. Isolated- a prisoner of my own mind.

But the truth is: I don't want a castle any more. I want a village. I want like-minded people who seek truth and hunger for connection. I want in person communication. Dinner gatherings, campfire chats and morning walks.

So, the reality is, I didn't dream of this. But I am here. Still moving, still breathing.

The spark is alive and the fire is glowing. Now, if I can just find some more dead wood and helping hands. All that I can do is feed the fire.

This new journey is only just beginning.