Mood: Above & Below (Current State of Heart & Mind)

Internally, it's been a hell of a week. Externally, I'm doing what I can to function as heart, mind, & body continue to process current events and change.  

Floating above Life's surface and sinking below it. Lately I've been experiencing both simultaneously. It's an odd, agitating state of existence.  

I'm not as graceful and composed about navigating this cyclical up and down movement between surviving and thriving as I'd like to be, but my gut urges me to keep pressing my way through irregardless of appearance and ability. I've learned from experience that forward movement helps me maintain resiliency and fight. It's a survival skill that undergirds me with hope and helps me employ self-care tools along the way when necessary. It keeps me striving to find the beauty in the mess, brokenness, and chaos that comes with living, motherhood, bipolar disorder, and being a person who loves words & imagery, sound & color. 

My goal as I do is to keep heart and mind intact, even when both are reeling and leaping between multiple thoughts and feelings. 

It's not always a pretty or fluid process, but I guess not much is in this life, right? 


Writing Fire

Current writing mood... 

Sometimes when I sit to write or paint, nothing comes and I'm left staring at a heap of dry bones. But then there are times when the Muse arrives and she flies past me in a rush, like a passing train, the force of her entrance pushing me back on my heels. I'm then left to chase after her; doing my best to keep her pace, sync my rhythm to hers and attune my ears and hands to what she's unearthing. In she sweeps, bringing words that sit in my heart, at the tips of my fingers and on my tongue, burning hot. She'll invite me to close my eyes and trust my hands as they move across the canvas, ignited by the burn of inspiration. The heat of her presence becomes comforting the more I yield to it, the more I allow it to burn away what no longer serves and what still needs refining. When she goes to depart the bones are no longer just a lifeless pile of brittleness in a heap at my feet. They are instead alive and dancing across my keyboard or across a page, brush or palette knife keeping the beat like a metronome. 


"Now I see fire,

Inside the mountain, 

I see fire, 

burning the trees, and 

I see fire, 

hollowing souls, 

I see fire, 

blood in the breeze...

and I hope that you'll remember me."

Ed Sheeran from The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug soundtrack

My Bipolar Life: My Pregnancy Video Diary Begins

I decided to take "My Bipolar Life" in a new direction and turn it into a video diary of sorts for this pregnancy. As with my other videos, this one goes against all vlogging rules-it's just me, talking, unscripted. I hope you don't mind the lack of editing, the "ums" and my losing my train of thought at times :)

My goal is to do at least one of these a week. There might be more-just depends on what's going on, if I have some thoughts I want to share, where I'm at mentally, etc. Hold me accountable?  Oh and subscribe? Thanks.





Everybody has a laugh, one that is unique to them & distinct from everyone elses. Today I was able to hear, recognize, & feel MINE again. I heard it in such a way that I hadn't even realized I had forgotten it's sound. It bubbled up and erupted from deep down in my gut, bursting from my mouth with a velocity, that knocked me over each time. Instead of nervousness, trepidation, and anxiety, I heard and felt delight and a clarity that's been missing for some time. I've been so out of it, so up & down the past months that I forgot what my laugh sounded like without any fear, worry or reservation holding it in chains, preventing it's release. I'm not sure why any of this is. Maybe its the medication, stabilizing & freeing me up enough to even be able to laugh. Maybe it's just quieted my mind, clearing it of any distractions so that I can be more attuned to hearing how it sounds. I don't know what's causing it, but I do know this:

Instead of feeling frazzled and ansty about the antics of a rambunctious 4 year old, I burst out laughing at his boyish energy and even play along. Instead of feeling upset because my 15mo's explorations means he's into everything, I get on the floor and enjoy the game he's created out of throwing around an empty milk carton.

Instead of not being able to find the energy to give that little extra after bathtime before they go to sleep, I'm dancing to The Laurie Berkner band and roaring like a dinosaur.

And seeing their delight as we twirl and jump makes my heart swell with a joy I haven't felt in such a long time. And so I laugh, and am grateful for it. Its music to my ears.