Musings of a Butterfly

I had a very spiritual experience the other day. It was my third session with Kate Jones at Mind Body Movement as I work on healing a fractured childhood. This particular day I had no expectations and I started by letting her know that I was feeling anxious, like something needs to change; this feeling of entrapment; living in an American suburb where I feel like I am suffocating every day that I am here. I explained I was feeling no peace and how I had literally experienced a panic attack in my kitchen on a recent morning and almost fainted. There has never been that feeling of..."sigh, I am home...." You know; that feeling when you know you don't need to move anymore, because you have found the place you want to live, for a while, or forever. I have never felt that. Every place I have ever lived has felt temporary...sometimes I don't put pictures up on the wall, or unpack boxes because I feel I won't be staying long. It has always been this way, I expect because...

I was deeply saddened to hear about Steve Jobs passing. He was always my hero, not only for his innovative ideas and brilliant mind, but for his long battle with cancer and illness. His commencement speech to the Stanford graduates in 2005 really hit home for me. He inspired me. To me, he was the Einstein of our generation. A true genius. If you haven't heard it, click on the link below and prepare to be inspired. Steve's 2005 Commencement Speech to Stanford Grads

One of the hardest things I have ever had to deal with is being a single mother to a teenage boy. My son just turned 17, and although I should be thankful that he's not in a gang or getting bad grades at school, or drinking,  there's that letting go thing. You know, when you still think he's your little boy, and he wants to be as far away from you as possible. No matter how cool of a mother I might be, i.e. ride a motorcycle, attend Burning Man; does NOT wear "Mom Jeans"; I am still not cool enough. He laughs at everything I do or say. Sometimes he drives me up the wall because he's making fun of something or other and not being serious or listening to me. Lately he has been acting like he's the man of the house, a peril of not having a father around. He is also a Leo, as am I, and for some reason we have this love-hate thing going on. You see, he's one of those crazy-makers. Yes, you know the ones. Those family members you love intensely, but they m...

And so it is, with great sadness that I realized some time ago that I will not make it to Black Rock Desert this year for Burning Man . Needless to say, I am extremely depressed, and have been for about a month, when the friend that was saving me a ticket, broke up with his girlfriend of eight years and informed me that the extra ticket apparently got lost in the break up. I have had a particularly hard summer financially and was already contemplating the very real possibility that I wouldn't make it this year, followed shortly thereafter by the announcement that, for the first time in Burning Man's 25 year history, tickets had sold out, and that the amount of people allowed had reached capacity.

Love. Blooms as a rose, or a blossom in the springtime. Fresh dew on blades of grass, like diamonds in the early morning mist. She walks, barefoot to a grassy clearing in the woods; dew drops sprinkle her blood red painted toes, daisies kiss her ankles. She stands still and listens to the chirping and whistling of early birds, filling the otherwise heavy silence through the trees. She breathes in the sweet smell of dawn; closes her eyes and dreams of ballerina steps and love hearts, wishes and tears, joy and bittersweet pain. And then she remembers. Remembers his kiss, remembers his touch, remembers their passion, remembers the way she can still smell him when she flips her hair, and her heart opens up. If he were here now, perhaps he could smell the sunlight on her skin. And there are tulips and daffodils and buttercups. And melancholy all but disappears and hides away. For a while.

One of my favourite Italian restaurants in San Francisco's North Beach is the aptly named North Beach Restaurant , located at 1512 Stockton Street in San Francisco. The ambiance is relaxing, in a Tuscan style with imported Italian tile decor and original works of art. The menu is prepared with the freshest ingredients, in authentic Tuscan style, and a wine list with over 500 bottles of wine with Grappas, Ports and Cognacs. (Yum). Lorenzo Petroni and Bruno Orsi founded the restaurant in 1970 and it is now renowned for it's authentic cuisine and celebrity clientele. Lorenzo happens to own a winery in Sonoma called Petroni Vineyards which won the Golden Award at the Golden Glass Competition in San Francisco, as well as several others. I love this place for the food, the wine and all else mentioned above, but also because of my penchant for young waiters. I know, I know, crazy right? Well, there are only male waiters here. In fact the only female who seems to be on staff is an incr...

These wretched wings frustrate me, the urge to fly is more desirable unto my soul than water for thirst. But fly I must; dance I must, bathed in silvery shadows of the moon, catching stars as they fall around me.