Bailey

Life is ruff. Sitting reading, writing, studying, and then getting distracted. This little monster is home and I couldn’t be happier to have him here. He’s the sweetest little Oscar the grouch that ever did exist. Why do we get dogs? They are just going to break our hearts eventually. Treasuring him in his eleventh year and savoring these sweet moments with him.

Wish

Today - three months to rest - to heal. Wishing I could lay on Dr. Ashley’s couch for the next seven hours and just talk, but that would cost a fortune. So, instead - I write. New favorite line from a song written by Semler “and there’s a galaxy behind your eyelids” off her album Stages of Breakdown.

Today, I recounted my last moments with Tami. Her cold arms, her dry lips. I promised to bring back do-terra oils to give a proper massage of hands and feet, but she died. It didn’t feel real until we gathered. I feel bad there wasn’t more time. We weren’t built for this life. I mean we were, but we weren’t… didn’t C.S. Lewis say or the Bible say “He put eternity in our hearts.”

I think her and I will probably learn to line dance someday in the future. I love to dance, but suck at it. We will laugh together.

I come from what feels like a giant family and really its probably not that big compared to others. Five of fifteen firsts will assemble this weekend here at our home. Cackling, creating, and who knows what else will commence.

Bailey will be back with us after his vacation at grandpa and grandma’s. The world just keeps spinning. I can’t look at the news right now, I feel fragile and that is hard to admit. I feel like one more thing could just split me open and I would never be able to get back up.

Yesterday, I was content - at peace. Today, grief. Tonight, salsa. Tomorrow, a plumber, the next day… Grateful, tired, achy, the list of feelings goes on. I can’t paint because my left hand is re-injured, which causes concern. What happens if I can’t paint, climb… reminds me of a Mary Oliver poem from the book Devotions that I desperately want back from a friend I lent it to.

God has provided me with so much grace because if I cannot do life? How is everyone else surviving?

Line up

The line up is tight today. The waves are pumping and the locals peer out from the rocky beach line waiting to beat people if they approach the point. Walking, writing, painting… a good morning indeed. What if the ocean was brown? Would we love it as much, I think not. Walking yesterday the waves were brown and it looked gross. Love milk chocolate muddy wheat fields, but brown waves? It’s all about color context right? If we grew up with brown waves, we’d think blue was gross… maybe? IDK. Captain random this morning, but love, love this weekend.

Subtle

Subtle the word of the morning. Could be dangerously good or dangerously bad. With all the big bombs going off, I was thinking about the dangers of the subtle things we do that can or cannot really damage situations or make dramatic difference for GOOD. How are we supposed to trust that our hearts are right? We must stay connected to LOVE and TRUTH. “Give us eyes to see and ears to hear” - a dangerous prayer. Subtle seeds (poetry in the making). The more I think about it though… we are good and bad - God will make the subtlety bad stuff good, yes - this makes me feel better. He redeems it. He is working for our good. Thankful for a loving Father, who takes our best efforts and refines it in the most mysterious, weird ways.

Foggy mornings

Crisp fall, foggy mornings. Oh my favorite. It feels as if the city was visited by sneaky, spinning, spiders last night. Blanketing even the garbage cans with webs. Maybe it’s just the fog that makes those webs glisten, but boy are they miraculous and beautiful. Here’s some shots from Bailey’s morning walk. Line, my favorite element of art.

Tabor in the Fall

I saw a pumpkin person today. Ready for the season dressed all in black, short and stout with a witch hat and jack-o-lantern purse. Were they coming from a preschool morning? Getting kids excited about the coming holiday? Was this their daily wear for the season? I have not one clue, but I admired their display. Turning heads whether they knew or not. A true artist out for a jaunt with nowhere to go or a day full of appearances. Love the city, love the country. Sounds of the city mixed with bird songs, they’ve learned to adapt - maybe I will too.

-Tabor in the Fall

Thin Lines

Different upbringing, different scenario, I’d be there, you’d be here. How can I reconcile this thin line of simple circumstance?

I see you, I believe you, I know the journey of life is hard. The grit you have, the determination, don’t let go. He’s coming back for us.

Trust

People seem to shy away from the mentally ill, I get it. I can’t always trust my brain to do what’s right and I become impulsive, passive aggressive… All of my worst and best get magnified - the veil between my heaven and hell is thin.

If I can’t trust myself, how am I supposed to hope others will trust me??? In all of this, I keep thinking about Jesus and how HE didn’t trust man because he knew what was in us.

I really must only put my trust in God, and give benefit of the doubt for humanity… also Jesus said something about being shrewd as a serpent and innocent as a dove - just googled it - Mathew 10 something.

So, mental illness - for me - is isolating and lonely. Grateful for people who hang on while I do my best to hang on too.

42

Welp, it’s my bday. Today isn’t a word, but a number :) the last week things sped up a bit and I had a lot of ideas around all sorts of things. Was a bit worried it would get out of hand, but God is good, my community is good, and I have learned. Mostly just grateful today, not sad. I used to feel grief around what life was supposed to look like. Maybe it will pop up again, but maybe not. Open to God’s leading as He goes ahead of me this year and so grateful to have made it to 42.

Confused

The dog is barking, the pager has not beeped, I cannot figure out how to write my paper… I feel lost. Maybe more confused then lost. Today was an “ease in” kind of day. By ease in, I mean sleeping in. Usually wrought with guilt for not getting out of bed and getting on with the day - I let things evolve slowly and gave myself as much grace as I could. A glass of water, a walk to the morning coffee stop and pet shop for Bailey. Then home to a cluttered, dirty, and messy house - ADHD getting the best of me. I bounced from room to room tidying and cleaning. This afternoon, I found myself working or trying to. Revisiting old journals and revising old essays for an upcoming paper that needs completing. The journal, a welcome distraction. The art studio calls and I don’t know where God is leading my future. I keep taking steps forward and am open to many opportunities. Determination set for 2024 and a return to the classroom. A man may plan his steps, but God directs them??? I can’t recall the verse exactly. A lot can happen in the span of a year… May I be open, humble, trusting, full of grace and love for the journey.

Laugh

/ laugh /

capturing a laugh

crystalizing it

like they do with those

museum butterflies

pass it along

when brains are blue

and hearts are disenchanted

play it and the clock stops

it takes you on a trip

traveling time

to lighter days

laugh

#healingthroughwords @rupikaur_ thank you for you journal prompts tears dropped on the page as I wrote this morning.

Open


I’m asking you

hold on

wild as I am

deep as I am

accept Me

this is

who I am

I belong to You

belong to Me

come as you are

OPEN

You’re received

accepted

not rejected

You, you are

cherished

You, you are

loved

You, you are

mine

Masterpieces

Creations long to be seen (I think). Sharing is caring, or so I was taught. IG made it possible for a lot of artist to “be seen” and connect in virtual community. We speak the same language and even within art there are genres or if I am using language still, dialects.

Speaking as an artist, it feels good when creations are recognized - because… part of ME is recognized. Awe, but it is part of WHO is in me, not me. Who gave me the gifts - I must always be grateful!

Have you listened to the song “Grateful” by Brandon Lake? It topped my Spotify two years ago and I listen to it often. Note to all of us reading this morning - Let us be co-creators and always give The Divine rights to our work because, we are HIS work. Masterpieces created anew to do good works HE planned long ago - Ephesians.

Motherhood

Tearful eyes, blotchy and hot rn but lighter.

I’ve never been a mother, never been pregnant and the grief around that comes in waves.

The societal, familial, cultural, and even spiritual pressure feels intense sometimes.

I often feel like an outsider on a different frontier. I’ve gone to specialists to make the most of my informed decision.

Today, a cherished confidant spoke healing into my grief. This mother of four told me a good mother would protect their child at any cost and my choice not to have a child even though it was a hard choice and not congruent with everything the world programs into us as women - was a choice of protection.

She told me, “Kandyce, you’re a good mom.”

As I type this the tears are coming quick. This was probably the most healing I have felt around this issue. I made the choice a good mom would’ve made. Tears, tears, tears. Healing is here.

#bipolar1 #motherhoodrising #grief #healing #gratefulfortherapy #gratefulheart #longingheart

February 13, 15, and today

I committed to writing everyday in February, but my brain happened to slow down. I sense physical depression setting in. I took a nap yesterday and that was a first in months. Today, I slept in - another first in months. 15lbs up and I can see why people dislike staying on their medications. Looking forward to seeing my doctor and discussing options. In a perfect world, I think I could control most of this - but I can’t curate everything, it’s just not possible. So, I will be patient, steadfast, and try not to sleep too much.

My fingers hurt

Sitting in silence after listening to part of Brennan Manning’s book ABBA’s CHILD, I am called to write. My fingers are numb, they hurt from this morning’s walk with Bailey. My mind flashes back to toeless, house less people in the hospital and my fingers ache all the more. I touched his toes without gloves and asked about his situation. My fingers are warm now and I have nothing more to say.