Strange Fruit

It is so very good to be back in Durango. Driving up yesterday morning, from the first glimpse of the snowy mountains a good 90 miles south was like coming home. I love my little sunshine and blue skys room, and I love the delicious perplexities of this little town.

I am a strange flavor of lassitude today. It seems like all I want to do is laze around and daydream, and worse off than usual with out the impending sort of pressure of the coming work week. At least tomorrow I have stuff to do to speed the progress of the day--yoga early then the follow up with the doc. And then hopefully Friday will pass by unnoticed and I will have the weekend to ponder.

I can not even begin to describe the chaos and craziness swimming in my brain right now. I almost hesitate to write lately at all, because it seems like its always the same crap. Either work crazies with the occasional semi-legitimate ponderance, the turmoils of not working, or some color of boy induced ridiculousness. I mean, really, the highlite of the last little while is probably getting my federal tax refund yesterday. The biggest thing on my mind currently is whether or not I have the energy to go on another adventure this month before going back to work in a week and a half. And wondering whether the kiddoes will remember me when I do get back. And tthen of course the perpetual quandry of what to say to him--but I've been so possesed lately and have no new information or revelations on the topic so it almost fails to mention.

All I can really hope for, in all directions and regards, is for courage. I ask for the fearlessness to face what comes with the truth and directness and honesty that reality demands. To not shy away from the conversations and experiences that I demand in order to protect myself from some mythic painful future. Really I just hope to summon the grace and passion that I know I possess in order to speak my truth.

Its like the more I say it the more ridiculous this all sounds.