Gratitude 1/11 and 1/12/21

I need to stop deciding what this blog is – as soon as I do, I feel obligated which then creates resistance – so I don’t add to it.

Ergo – I’m just randomly adding things as I feel pulled to do so.

I’ve connected with a group called My Sober Girlfriends – through them I am doing a 21 day gratitude challenge where we write for 10 minutes a day about one thing, place, time, person that we are grateful for. This week we are to focus on the past.

1/11/21 Thomas ❤️ 🧡 💛

Even before Thomas and I reconnected I had huge gratitude for our time together. While it was often hard and frustrating, we really connected well, he was insanely attractive, we had a ton of fun and had really fun sex!!! I feel so fortunate to have gotten time with someone who I shared such a delicious physical connection with. I think some people live their lives never really having that. His hands were full of a special magic that sparkled down to my bones. He loved to kiss and he loved to cuddle.

After we reconnected we initially shared some of that magic sexuality and even after sex became too problematic because of his health we loved to touch and snuggle. We connected even deeper than before intellectually, politically and emotionally and in the quotidian pleasures of life together. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have gone to Standing Rock which though brief, was a life changing experience for me. It showed me the beauty of being in Indigenous centered space and the importance and joy of feeding people and truly being of service with no expectation of recognition or aggrandizement.

Thomas brought me so much joy in problem solving silly problems together around my silly pool, or house/yard projects. One day while camping we watched yellow jackets eat the meat off a chicken bone for an hour. He would text me updates on the squirrels’ attempts to get at the bird feeder and I’d text him updates on my poops.

And of course I am so grateful for the tiny house. (As well as the apartment we built in Marla’s basement back in the day!). I believe it was probably the only way he would have agreed to come live live with me – knowing he would leave me in a better place than he found me.

I so wish he was physically here with me now watching the starlings invade the new bird feeders and problem solving on how to have suet out for the sweet little native birds and keeping the asshole invasive starlings away.

I mostly feel gratitude for loving and being loved so deeply.

1/12 varied experiences in childhood

I’m grateful that my parents moved around and that we got to experience so much when we were little.

I’m glad we lived on the reservation and that I got feel like a minority or an outsider at such a young age. I’m glad that we lived in the country both on the rez and on Dad’s farm and that I got to climb trees, milk goats, play in the creek, walk down the center line of country roads, clean salmon, pick moose moss, wipe my butt with thimble berry leaves, jump into hay piles, watch back yard firework displays.

I’m glad I got to live in the city, run wild on city streets, ride busses, shoplift at the corner store, work at Clinton Street Theatre, have easy access to movies at Cinema 21 and the Esquire, have water fights with the Benson Bubblers, eat lunch at Big Terry’s and play Soak Em in the back parking lot.

I’m glad I went to MLC and ran around school with our bridles on, smoked pot in the playground structure, had field trips to Canon Beach, Ashland, Malhuer.

I’m glad I had Grandma’s house to go to both in Astoria and Vancouver and that Grandma was such a sweet and loving woman and a master cook and picnic maker. I’m glad I got to travel with Grandma and Scotty to the Worlds Fair with I LOVE HOSES written in bubble letters up my arm.

I’m glad I got to own ponies: Daisy and Eppy on the farm and leased Sher’a at Skyline stables.

I’m glad I got to go to Mexico with Jenny’s family when I was 13, traveling in a 39 Buick and camping magical places, swimming in green jungles, eating amazing date and banana cakes and eating sugar cane that fell from the trucks.

I’m glad that we lived in Iran for that year where I learned to love a place so different from home, meeting lovely people and eating gorgeous food.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: