loved you better

When I think about those terrible moments in the past when I acted from anger or frustration or pain and I hurt those I loved...............
When Seffie killed the chickens.
When Chaska dug up the garden.
When April read instead of talking to me.
When Chris rolled over and went to sleep instead of resolving with me. Or let the candle burn onto the new runner.
When Jaime called me when she was drunk.
When Synara threw me off.

And I feel how my reactions to those events just exist as they do, unchangeable.

The truth rises up like a bubble in a honey jar.


I could have loved them better.

But I could not have loved them more.

my quiet moment

is now.
And I woke up this morning, my head heart (whatever wherever that is) filled with home.

Barrack was in my dream again....first time in a while, and everything else...
it was all home.
I can feel this like a cat clawing her way out of a cardboard box or the baby honeybee
making her way out of her cell.

There is a secret world underneath the world and we revel in it, and we deny it. There is
a mysterious deep somewhere where connections are made from nonsense.

Here's a magical story. I am 18 and the world is unfolding itself before me like the morning.
Mystery was stirring in me like it hadn't done before and I was happy to fall into it's folds, being totally naive of any danger or consequence.
And one night, from that dark fertile place, I drew a creature. A wolf. White. And simultaneously but mostly separately I wished for a malamute wolf.
My dad had left sunday's paper on the floor of the living room for 3 days and it was wednesday night when I picked it up. In the classifieds I found an ad for malamute wolf pups. I correctly intuited that this was providence and went to meet ChaSka the next day. We were drawn to each other and I brought her home.
And so began a love affair that will go on into that magical time we refer to as "forever"
She passed from the earth plane last week. Although I did not yet know that, for three days when I left home in the morning there was a rainbow. This is the nonsense place where connections are made. She left me and there is a rainbow on the other side of the planet every day for three days.
Maybe it's that.

I went to a fourth of July party here with a few hundred expats and when "Born in the USA" played, boys jumped up on tables, pumped fists into the air and yelled every lyric in time. And I was never more touched by patriotism. Of course, in our homeland, none of us would be so gross as to commit such an offence, but far from home in a pub with strangers from your home country it is warranted.
Maybe it's that.

A few days ago I met a malamute named Mickey that resembles my own Seffie. He hugged me the same way and played with me the same way and it was surreal and beautiful and definitely stirred something in me that will not bed down easily.
Maybe it's that.

I am being blocked at every turn to be recognized as a legitimate massage therapist. I used to love what I do, I used to be fascinated and intrigued. That too has faded in the wake of Australia's great affection for useless bureaucracy.
People who live here are for the most part either native to Sydney or immigrants from another large city or very old and have been here before the place was so huge.
Which means I generally do not fit in or easily understand the thinking and lifestyle of the residents. Now, I truly feel I belong anywhere, the whole world is my home, all of it my residence. However, it feels less natural to live here than it was to live in New Zealand or Michigan or Missouri or New Mexico or anywhere else.
Maybe it's that.
Whatever it is, it confronts me. I'm looking at it.