Author: Erin

Hopeful

Hopeful

There is an electricity in the air.
It tingles my skin and makes my pulse race.
Something good is on its way to me.
I have a feeling deep inside my soul about it.
There are times my heart is bursting with joy
And I thank the Universe for all my blessings.
At times, it doesn’t feel real to live this life.
To finally be free.
I never knew I could be this happy
After so much grief.
The wonder of possibilities
Lay before me.
What if it all works out?
What if I get what I have been longing for?
What if my dreams become reality?
I am hopeful.

Good Enough

Good Enough

Recently, I’ve been feeling this inexplicable sense that somehow life is passing me by. I am sitting on the sidelines of my own life and it gives me so much anxiety I can hardly breathe. I feel so depleted physically and emotionally from the past week, and yet, my body, my soul, is screaming out from inside of me to do something! Except I don’t know what that something is. I feel so lost right now, so completely unfulfilled, and I don’t know how to remedy it and it is driving me slowly insane. I am not happy right now with my career, my personal life, my finances, my love life, my health & well-being…it all needs an overhaul and a revamp. I don’t know where to begin.

I have been in the house for almost 10 days now, from my daughter testing positive for Covid, to me testing positive last Friday. With the exception of two short Target pick up orders (with masks!) and walks by myself, I have been stuck within the confines of this house. I am lonely and in need of connection very badly. However, I feel like the only connection I can come by these days comes with a price: money or sex. I am running short on the first and I don’t have the energy right now to use my body as currency for connection. I literally cannot have someone take from me without it being returned in full force. And so I sit here, the dog my solo companion.

I keep thinking to myself – when am I going to get it together? But honestly, deep down inside I know that is a very harsh, uncompassionate response to myself. I know this! And I know that voice is not my own…it likely stems from my mother. Or step-mother. Or one of the other cruel teachers from my life. My own inner being is not cruel; she is inquisitive, joyful, hopeful, playful, curious, and loving. I have been so tired of having tough experiences that have hardened me in some form or fashion. I’m ready to live a life of ease, of softness. I’ve got myself and can take care of everything in my life, but I am tired of having to do it all alone. We weren’t meant to be alone. We weren’t meant to be lonely.

I’m crying as I type these words out, knowing that all these feelings have to come out somehow. I can no longer suppress them and have this resentment, anger, or sadness welling up inside of me. They must come out. So I type, and cry, cry and type, until I feel like enough of my emotions have been released that I can say “Good enough” for today and put my computer away.

Crazy Crow Lady

Crazy Crow Lady

In my neighborhood, we have a murder of crows. I cannot tell you how much I love saying that. I tend to see them on my morning walks with the dog, and I am endlessly fascinated with them. I have found myself starting to talk to them as if 1) they actually understand me and 2) I already know them.

I have a confession: I want to be the crazy crow lady.

On Tiktok, I am on Crowtok (there IS such a thing – Google it!) and am so completely mesmerized. I mean look at them! They are beautiful, mysterious, wily, and resourceful. I have learned you can train them to bring you trinkets and other things. They will teach other family members about you and then you have generations of crows gifting you with random things they find, usually in exchange for treats. The only problem? I usually forget the treats part on my daily walks. But I swear, I am going to train them one day. One day very soon. Because I really do want to be the crazy crow lady.

I have told friends and coworkers about my latest obsession and it is usually met with weird looks. Well except my bestie, but we are both similarly batshit crazy. I love this idea of befriending smart animals and having a mutually beneficial, entertaining exchange. I want to be seen as this unhinged, wild creature as a result of my crow friendship. In part, because I know when people think you are crazy, they tend to give you a wide berth and leave you alone. At least a little bit.

So if you see a lady talking to crows, or (hopefully) with crows on her shoulder, I would encourage you to approach her with caution because: She is the crazy crow lady.

Alone in a Storm

Alone in a Storm

I’m lying in bed, tangled up in the sheets.
The windows are flung wide open.
I hear and see the wind whipping the trees in a frenzy.
The smell of fresh rain intoxicates me.
The low rumble of thunder begins its crescendo.
I remember the conversation with you about this very topic.
The sheer delight of a good thunderstorm.
Laying in bed as the storm approaches.
Enjoying and appreciating nature’s fury.
I roll to the side and close my eyes.
I try to imagine the feel of your warm body curled up behind me.
Your strong arm tucking me against you.
Holding me tight.
Kisses on my neck.
My eyes flutter open from a loud crack of thunder.
I groan, both from reminiscing and the longing.
The realization sets in.
I am alone in a storm.
I sigh and think to myself, “Maybe someday soon”.
I miss you.