Putting a pin in this, so when i look back at my little blog thingy here..

 1. what happened at church today? Rockstar, please open me up to the spiritual experiences you have for me.

2.. Scrub!! I have spent so much time getting good at things that are sooo hard. The bottle. my jobs, each one was something out of my comfort zone. I've learned so much. But in this new Starting from scratch era; what if i spent 5% of my energy leaning in. To the creative stuff that actually is super super IN the zone?

I don't want to steal anyone's shine. but i think I've allowed enough time.  I could write something folk wanna read. I can sculpt something someone would want to put somewhere. 

Life is short. While i do have an amends to make to myself. go get that J.D. I think maybe finally, i should unleash the creator in me, too.

i don't think my ideas are good; but my voice is stellar. 

Breathe Scrub.

To Truly Forgive Yourself

I've made big choices that are not good. 

What's underneath

It's not Gustav. Or love. Or creatity. It's not connecting or challenging tasks ahead of me. It's not love, my life is full.

It's not justice, although that gives you enough to fill long bus rides.

One of the answers is coming.

Is this fear or scared?

confusion

(1) I believe in ScrubJunior.

(2) I want him to be happy.

Can both exist without interfering?

I have so much good advice!!

NOT from scratch

New job. No ScrubBestFriend. No ScrubSis. No African. No Brooklyn.

Time to grow. I clean my bathroom now. I take vitamins. Boring essential stuff.

The real work starts in my heart.

Truth: I have to hold on; and still let go.

Losing Allison feels like training wheels compared to this. Our monsters are my lifeline to her. Thank Gawd they love me back... Struggling, growing and LIVING. These two are are the reminder. Even with the+Allison-genetic-awesome-deposit; school and life after soccer still happen. And, it's hard to go through it without her. I hold on to everything Allison.

You have to BOTH hold on and still let go.

I have drafts of the hold-on-letters to ScrubSister and ScrubBestie... (They are soooo long)  I work on them late nights. I only work on them when I can't sleep. During daylight I express holding on with ScrubBestie's poetry and ScrubSister's life in SoFlo (my fam.)

I fear.

A weird fear; the shit's not SCARY. (I know rape, violence, poverty, insecurity, loneliness and being abandoned. I know objectively scary stuff.)  I now know this privilege: fear of being silent for fifteen minutes (without a hard task in front of me.)

Alcohol helps but  NOT a solution for me. I can't function while my addiction is trying to kill me. 

But somewhere on the other side of this fear. Is something. Grow-worthy?

I will clean my fukking bathroom and do laundry. I will cry on my way to work when I miss my sister. 

I'll write what happens if I actually do get to fifteen minutes.

sigh

ScrubSister and ScrubBestie are gone.

It happened over a months ago, within 30 days of each other.

Pain. 

Scrub got her favorite seat

On the bus. 

The little victories make life grand.

I've started a adult job this week. I'm emerging from my bed. And I commute my favorite way, by bus. 

The next car is for my baby nephew and I've got weight goals. So... until your darling scrub is 80 pounds lighter my commute is a little long and involves walking.

The truth: I'm so heavy it is not fun to waddle to work. But other than the waddle my day couldn't be sweeter right now.

Sweet and emotional. My route takes me through spaces I remember from years ago in active addiction. I see the street folk I used to sit with when I was stranded somewhere outside drunk. I don't remember them smelling so bad. I don't remember their faces being so sad. Deep down I know the actual people from these streets are all new. The ones whose names I learned were surely taken from this earth. 

They were taken due the disease I fight every day in sobriety. 

I discover hot tears on my cheeks today, as I ride the bus back to my tiny apartment. Those women and men are gone. I should be too.

Somehow the creators of this universe gave me grace; and let me continue to have a journey.

I am grateful.