Pretty Good Ugly

Saturday Morning in the Cosmic Blob

These are the days I need to write and yet I don’t. Words and thoughts swirl around my mind so quickly I don’t even notice them, my fingers can’t keep up.

Like florescent lights flickering too fast to be noticed except on a subliminal level, my thoughts storm my mind.

I have nothing to say and everything to share and none of it feels worthy or worthwhile so it stays trapped in my body, stuck in my cells.

I don’t know what it is I need to say to you. Except that life is hard. Life is hard and beautiful and terrible and lovely. I know how hard it is to be a human and I don’t mean to take it out on you.

The only thing that makes any sense right now is music.
And movement.
And rest.
And my love for you.
For all of you.

Here we are, trapped in the cosmic blob together. Held in the chaos within the void.

So maybe none of it matters, but in a good way.
Maybe none of it and all of it is just a piece of cosmic glitter.
Fatalism can be a bit comforting.

Or maybe I need to go eat something.

All of this to say, you are not alone. I promise you.
You may feel lonely. You may be lonely.
But you are not alone.

We are all just hurdling through time and space. And it’s hard to be a human.

Maybe I can be a dandelion next time.

What should we eat?

xox

Good morning y’all

What I posted:

“Hi. We made it to another day. Let’s celebrate with coffee.”

how I actually look this morning:

Trying to keep it real.

And let me say this—
I AM PROUD OF YOU.

Here you are, getting through the stuff, whatever it be.

If you resisted the urge to step on a scale, or decided NOT to have that cigarette, or chose to take a walk or set a boundary or go to bed early or connect with a friend. Those things are huge and I’m proud of you.

And if nothing like that had happened today, that’s fine too. You are HERE and that is what I am choosing to celebrate today.

Take care of yourself and each other.
You are loved by me and more.
Xox

PS time to chew something, yeah?

Returning to Joyfulness

It’s been a minute. Hello and happy Spring. The sun has returned and life springs anew. Flowers are blooming and birds are singing and I find myself smiling to myself on my walks– staring up at the trees in wonder.

Wonder and Joy have been big themes for me lately.

I’m doing a play, a brilliant play with incredible people and it feels so damn good. It’s my first show since COVID. And my first full length show since motherhood and my diagnosis.

It was so scary at first; stepping into a space where I am unknown can spike my anxiety and insecurities. The urge to “prove myself” and “win them over” kicks in and I remind myself that my work will speak for itself and to just RELAX. Nothing is more annoying than a thirsty theatre wench, so I keep my desperation in check.

And the JOY y’all. It’s such a privilege to step into another space and try on another person’s experiences. My character, Annie Jump Cannon, is a PHENOMENAL woman, and it is an honor to pretend to be an astrophysicist suffragist. Like, so freaking cool.

My draw to performance started with that desire to become someone else, even just temporarily. The freedom of being “not-me” for a few hours of rehearsal. As time marched on I started to learn how to stay in my own skin rather than morphing like a chameleon into whatever I imagined was desired/required of me.

Having chronic illness has pulled me out of so many experiences, especially in the last few years. I’ve been afraid to step back into performance, nervous that my body might give out, worried that I’ll leave people hanging.

I’ve been practicing honoring my body. To recognize where it IS reliable. To identify both my own power and influence and also my powerlessness. There are things I can do and there are things outside of my hands. This is always true. This is true for everyone.

After seven plus years of apologizing for my body, of resenting its unreliability, of punishing myself for the crime of being human, I am FINALLY back in a rehearsal room. And it’s such good medicine. To be with other creators.

Instead of over-riding my physical needs, I listen to my body. I go home and go to bed after rehearsal. I keep up my treatments, and I respond to (rather than deny) my needs. I know that any moment it may all change. Of course, that is true for every human.

The precariousness of life can be anxiety-inducing for sure, but it can also be liberating AF. We’re on this planet, hurdling through space, with just this tiny layer of atmosphere protecting us from the void.

Everything is such a delicate balance and I hear Brene Brown in my ear asking “Are you going to let fear rob you of joy?”

So as you breathe through your day, I hope you can notice the beauty and be open to the joy and wonder. The vibrant green of new growth, the persistent poppies that squeeze out of cracks in the cement, the intricacies of tree bark.

We are part of the great tapestry of life– no greater or less than any other component. Nourish yourself. Do the things that bring you joy. Tell stories, make art, build faerie houses, take a hike, pet a dog. Be brave enough to seek joy.

“It may all fall apart.” It WILL (eventually) all fall apart, but in the mean time, there’s music. So let’s dance.

Take care of yourselves, you are loved by me and others.

xox

PS: if you are Napa-accessible, please come see “Silent Sky” at Lucky Penny. It will fill your cup with wonder and joy.

When your Daughter is Beautiful

It’s Strange When Your Daughter is Beautiful
To see it but dare not say it,
Not wanting to define her by her beauty.

I hear it, and stumble my response.
Thanks feels inappropriate, “I know” feels wrong too.

It’s Strange when your Daughter is Beautiful
And she looks like you too.

You see it,
You hear it,
You wonder if it’s true.

We know that she is beautiful,
And it makes Us Beautiful too.

Found in the Forest

We took a walk yesterday— my dear friend invited Kidlet and I to join her and her pup. As they walked ahead, I was stuck by this gorgeous moss covered rock. I pulled out my phone to snap a picture.

But the photo showed me more.

This gorgeous beam of light shone into the rock, imperceptible to my weak ass eyeballs. But the camera caught it.

I looked again, and couldn’t see. I moved my phone, the light lingered.

It felt so profound. This beauty, this light, that I could not see on my own. Sometimes it takes another perspective, or time, or reframing to see what is there. Somethings we CANNOT SEE on our own.

Perspective assistance is required.

The cheeky part is, I never would have seen the light (ha! Oh that’s too rich), if I hadn’t stopped to wonder at the rock.

All this to say— nature is extraordinary. Our planet is incredible. Our lives are miraculous.

I wish you the warmth of sunshine, the comfort of shade, and the gift of wonder.

Grateful for a friend who’ll take us both into the woods.

You are loved, by me and others. Let’s go eat something. (I’m making cinnamon oatmeal).

Notes to Self: Dear HS Freshman

Oh dear one, the world is large and the universe expanding. It’s beautiful and terrifying and comforting and overwhelming.

And YOU ARE PART OF THAT. Part of the chaotic and magnificent cosmic blob.

You are a creature of the multiverse. One of many. There is not a single thing wrong with you. There may be elements that pull you off balance, that skew perspective and amplify extremes. In time you will learn to harness and guide that energy.

That intensity is not wrong. It will burn you a few times, and those around you too. It will also become a useful tool.

Keep breathing and give grace to yourself and others.

It’s gonna be hard and it’s gonna be okay.

You are loved. By me and more.

Xox

Pep Talk: Almost Spring

This time of year gets really tricky. It’s the longest we’ve been in Winter mode, anxiously awaiting Spring, doubtful it will ever arrive.

Historically, for me, it’s a tricky time of year as it marks a lot of loss.

I’ve come to understand that the longer I live, the more loss I will sustain and this no longer breaks me down. Loss is the cost of love and I will not short change myself in the name of “protection.”

All to say, we are almost there y’all. If the cumulative weight of the past few years is crushing down on you, please remember that Spring is just around the corner. New season, new life, sunshine and birdsong and delicious produce. Just around the corner.

Hang in there. It’s cliche but it’s important. We are almost to Spring.

Where I am, it’s raining. It was storming and then it stopped and now it’s raining again. Which feels poetic and appropriate.

I don’t know where you are, literally and figuratively, but I know that you are loved. That we are all part of the cosmic blob, careening through space and time. Expanding and spiraling and hurling into the unknown.

Into the Next.

Keep breathing. The trees sure appreciate it.

You are loved. By me and others.

Have you had breakfast? I’m on my second pot of coffee so it’s long past time to chew something. Let’s chew.

xox LC

Bone Broth is NOT Soup

So, you may have seen the video of a certain Goop Heiress discussing her so-called “Wellness Routine” wherein she describes HIGHLY DISORDERED eating. I’m not going to link the video, it’s harmful, but I am going to say this.

Bone broth is NOT soup.
Vegetables are NOT a meal.

I’ve been writing in my recovery journal and found a note from a few months ago that said “A banana is NOT a meal. A banana is a snack.”

Under that I asked myself, “What IS a meal?” (These are some humbling and embarrassing questions at 40). Well, a MEAL involves multiple food groups, I told myself. Traditionally a protein, a grain, produce, and some fat.

Soup could be considered a meal if it has those things in it. Broth is a MF’ing ingredient. Not soup. Not a meal.

That video fucked me up. As you may know, I’m mid-recovery and while the spiky, cheeky, determined-to-recover part of me rages against the video, the latent, nefarious, disordered part of me keeps whispering “SEE.”

“See– it’s possible to need LESS.”
“See- LESS is more.”
“See- she’s being celebrated for this.”
“See- the interviewer isn’t challenging her.”
“See- it’s part of WELLNESS.”

Intermittent fasting has long been a dog whistle for disordered eating, because the intermittent fast is what naturally happens after dinner, before breakfast. Break (the) fast.

I’m gonna keep climbing out of this rabbit hole. Even though I’m tempted to crawl back down. I know what’s down there. It’s familiar, it seems safe, but it’s trying to kill me. It wants me so small I disappear entirely and you know what?

I am TIRED of making less of myself.
I crave SOFTNESS. I yearn for gentleness.

I’ve spent decades trying to get a “hard body”, but I don’t want to be hard. I am not stone. I am not a machine. I am a human.

So if you find yourself tempted back into the darkness, if your issues got reactivated recently… just know that you are not alone. Know that you deserve freedom. We both do. We all do.

I’m angry at Goopeth, but I’m also really fucking sad for her. I’m more angry at all the enablers and the interviewers and those who normalize this type of self harm.

I haven’t eaten yet. So I’m off to chew something. You chew too.

You are loved. By me and others. Take up space. We are no better or worse than most other humans.

xox

No dish breakfast

Sometimes I need a simpler breakfast. A really easy one. No dishes. Enter: TOAST!!

Smear it with whatever you have on hand— peanut butter, cheese, smooshed banana, regular ass butter. Today I did avocado (and a sprinkle of Everything but the Bagel because I’m a little bit bougie).

Didn’t even use a plate. Just a spoon. Dishwasher friendly.

Because we gotta eat today. No matter what. Even if you had ten cupcakes yesterday. Even if you’re going out for dinner tonight. Even if your weight is up. We chew no matter what.

You got this.

Another easy-ass meal- oven chicken and carrots.

Preheat oven to 400– Frozen chicken thighs on a baking sheet with rough chopped carrots

20 mins— go chill. Lie on the floor, release your jaw, roll your head back and forth. Bring one knee into the chest, then the other. Then both. Wiggle so it feels good.

When the timer goes off, season/flip/season the chicken and yank the scrawny carrots. (I did kidlet’s with salt and Everything but the Elote on mine.)

Cook for another 10-15 minutes till chicken is done.

It won’t win awards but it gets the job done. Extra credit if you make/zap rice. (I didn’t). Also, THERE’s the speaker remote!

Then, crank the oven up to 425 and make yourself some frozen French fries.

All hail the mighty potato. And my messy table.

Because here, we practice imperfectionism.

Take care y’all.