more than that

and for a second the cars stopped driving and the man stopped sweeping and the rain stopped falling and i stopped tap tap tapping on my keyboard writing frantically about you.

[yes, you].

and in that second, the stillness took me over as i daydreamed of something so far from right here and now. as i awoke back to reality, back to cars and sweeping and rain and typing and thinking about you [and if] and when the hell i should be saying that bittersweet goodbye to this life
to these days of everything
to what it’s so clearly beginning to mean.

it appears that all i’m really trying to do is stop time.


‘a good traveller has no fixed plan and is not intent on arriving’ – lao tzu

i never really got it.

i’m on a train from montreal to new york city. we’re travelling through the adirondacks. and i’m kicking myself because all i want to do is write, but i look out the window instead and want to look out the window but write instead. it’s an unnervingly beautiful paradox i find myself caught within. the train sounds.

graaaaaap. graaap graaap graaaaaaaaaaap.

i don’t want to get off this train. i don’t want to arrive. i am happy and comfortable and still, for now. i know the next few weeks won’t stop. i know i’ll be all tied up in the bustle and the busy days and the getting from here to there.

but how exciting that will be! nights of four-hour sleep, stiff muscles from cramped spaces, new city smells and faces, the change in the air, in the everywhere.

and i’m not headed for anywhere, just riding minute by minute today and here and now on this train with the shaking and the moving and the graap graap graaping and the sweet simple thoughts of one day in montreal and kissing a boy, just a stranger just before.

i’m not wishing this to end, i’ll happily stay aboard until it stops. and every second i fall more in love with each second floating by and it comes in one big perfect wave of everything that starts from one small blood-red drop in the oceans of our hearts.

is that so much to ask?

and all these things i’m coming up on, all the streets i’ve yet to walk and people i’ve yet to meet, oh all those streets and people may be the most significant and important of my time away so far. and i’ll think about them in the future as if they’ll be here tomorrow and i’ll find a place in a place in a dream in a place, and i’ll make my own way and you’ll never know what you did to me or how i hated or loved you for it and how i pushed through agony [that really never was] and found ecstasy [which i always only had] and the effervescence of the dreams i try to hold so tight become me just clutching clutching clutching at thin air until i feel what i think is the place that holds the secrets to the world inside my heart, and i see it for a second in my hands. and then i let it fly when i realise that the pull between the agony and the ecstasy exists only in my mind and everything else will come and go as moments of insignificant clatter that make me only think it’s the way i only think it is.

bring me along, unattached. forever on the fence between green and greener. life is too mysterious for me to be tethered to your plans [mind, it’s you i fear]. let spontaneity and flights of fanciness tickle me and set my heart on fire, set it loose to float with clouds and fly with bluebirds. that’s all i really want to do, live my life so dreamily aware of all that’s wonderful and lovely.

dawn dawning dawned

soon this beach will be scattered with people but for now i have it just to myself. just me some birds some flies some wind, the sand the sea some trees and shells.

what i put out i get right back, so my energy wanes and explodes maybe where it’s not supposed to. i take a step the other way and recognise that day-to-day i should find something stronger. something less of an option and prioritise the heart that needs above the heart that wants.

yesterday they all reached out. yesterday home was on my mind. yesterday i needed them and they needed me and we needed each other so we found each other, like we know we can.

it’s early it’s morning i sit by the sea watching ripples and blueness and whitewash and waves [they don’t compare to the waves i left].

and i think.

until now i’d never seen hawaii in the summertime. i’d never felt the pull of the sun so high in such a blue sky. the power the vibes the heat.

i need to change my focus.


take this fear and throw it on the fire of my imagination. i’ll watch it burn and turn to embers. i’ll watch it become ash. it’s settled on my skin, just heavy enough to notice, just light enough for the wind to take it with its breath as i finally let it go.

we’re all scared. life is daunting and overwhelming. life is unexpected and unrelenting. so what do we do with the fear when it rises and bubbles? how do we pull it from all the places it doesn’t belong and let it be only a reminder of the courage and freedom that it perpetuates deep within us every second of every day?

we live.

we do the things we long to do, the things that burn holes in our desire. that change us and open our minds in no way we thought possible. we learn. we discover. we chase our loves and bare our souls to this crazy, beautiful world. we say yes, with wholeheartedness, to everything good and kind.

we love.

we take the chances our ego warns us of. we pull ourselves out and over the edge and we fall into the love all around us, within us, smiling and screaming with joy and hopefulness, as we find our wings and fly. surrender to your life and everything you want so deeply, wholly, surely. 

be fearless, be brave. let love be life and life be love.


i write about you, i do. i write for you, too. i care what you think. i care so much. i want to impress you. show off. i want to excite you.

i write to get things out, it’s enticing writing for strangers. for friends, too. knowing my thoughts aren’t just my thoughts anymore. i put them into the world, release them away from me. because sometimes i don’t like them in my head. i think too much to keep them all there. there isn’t enough space. talking isn’t a strong suit. not about this. this is new to me. i’ve never been here before, not really.

i desperately hoped you’d never notice. and now I’m sabotaging it for myself. eugh. of course. it’s what i do. who i am. why i write. ridiculous. but evocative. exciting. 

there are so many people i care to impress. friends that mean so much. that give so much. advice, love, hope through the chaos. i just do what i know how to do. all those people in my life who mean so much, i wish i could give it all back tenfold. 

it’s about you in so many ways. but it’s about me too.

can you feel it?

i want to write, but i don’t know what to write about. i could write about the amazing things i have done over the past couple of days, the wonderful feelings i have had after seeing old friends, experiencing new things and being so comfortable here. i could write about the stupid things like running out of money and watching my first turkey get stuffed. i could write about anything, really.

but i don’t want to.

there is nothing making me write. i think it’s because i am happy. things are filling me up. feelings, i guess. so that i don’t feel the need to write about them to the extent that it becomes a database of memories and therapy sessions and emotional expression. but i still want to write.

of course i do. it’s me. it’s scrapbooking. it’s documenting.

as much as i don’t want to write about what i’ve been doing and seeing and experiencing, i can’t leave out how amazing it was to be in dc. seriously. humbling, historical, beautiful, full. full of information and secrets and stories. oh to be a fly on the wall.

i’m tired. too tired to sleep. too tired to write. so i’ll wrap myself up in flannelette sheets and appreciate the comfort and feeling and love i have for everything tonight.

to make you feel special

if i’m always looking for something more, something bigger, must there be something bigger waiting for me?

i know you have the answer.

i think a bit about what to do next. where i’m going. figuratively, literally, in a dream state, in any which way possible. this is something i need to think about. it won’t happen on its own. i know you’ll tell me about flow, and letting it be and tai chi (or something like that) but i can’t not think about it.

it kind of scares me, too. where i’m going and what i’m doing. i get my hopes up about one thing, then it falls apart. i know something will happen. something will eventuate. but i could really do without the beating i get before it finally happens.

and i know it, once i have faith that something will happen or is happening, i forget to think about it. organically, i go on with my life. it’s there, i know it. i need to have a little faith. 

today was a thinking day. a planning day. one step back. now a hundred forward. i’ll get there. but along the way, i will think. that’s what i do. i know you think it’s silly, that i shouldn’t think so much. shouldn’t ask so many questions of myself. but words run around and play in my head all day, everyday. 

so i ask and i write and i think.