Saturday, February 11, 2012

like jellyfish.

my heart is a jellyfish. waving like entrails, weightless. it stings when i try to measure its mass and i cannot help but think that sometimes, it belongs in the ocean. i lay in bed, swaying, listening to the whir of the fan, to the breathing of the man next to me that chose me, that i chose, and i smell baby skin on the other side of me and i hear creaks in the hallway when our daughter comes in the room to say she wants water. she is transparent in the middle of the night. not thirsty. but she needs the reflection of herself in my sleep addled limbs in order to fall back asleep and i get it, i do. she is a tiny baby stretched out inside little girl legs and she talks half-asleep about how she doesn't like dragons and wants to know why monkey hands taste bad. there are mornings bryan leaves for work at three am, four am, five am. these mornings, i bring the baby into bed with me to nurse and he curls against my chest and falls asleep with a long, slow exhale and i think this is why people go to aquariums. to try to illuminate what is under the surface with oohs and ahhs. you know you can't capture it or explain it or understand it completely. the closest you can do is stick it in glass cage and charge admission, share the knowledge you do know on plaques with an academic font. and you marvel at it. you get up and you shift your feet to land and they feel like bruises on the bare floor, dried out and salty. it's on these mornings that i know i am trying to be good enough. even when i'm not good. even when i'm not enough. sometimes life outside the ocean is a big, beautiful mess.


  1. Your words......they make my heart soar with pride - they paint such beautiful, powerful, emotional pictures that we all hide inside - you help us make them real - in black and white print.

    And the pictures-they leave me speechless with their insight captured in a lens.

    Love you and thank you.

  2. Your words, in black and white, make my heart burst with pride, envy, joy. All those somewhat indescribable feelings - finally explained in such prose!

    And your pictures - insight captured in a lens.....

    Thank you and love you!!!

  3. Your posts knock me on my ass every.single.time. In a beautiful, fantastic way.

    Just thought you should know.

  4. I'm here from Phoenix's because I liked your comment there. I take it you stay busy, what with two kids and a cat. I've come to feel burdened with one elderly dog and a cat, but then I'm getting old, and I have some physical issues that are a pox in my life.

    "i know i am trying to be good enough"

    Yes, I get that. Oddly, at my age--62--the pressure is on to be good enough because time is running out rapidly for me. I would that I could be content--like a cat--to simply be.

    1. i think when we're living fully, we're always worried that time is running out rapidly. maybe that means we're doing it right.
      (oh, and that cat is rarely content! in fact, right now, she is knocking over all of the books on the bookshelf because i'm not paying attention to her. xo)

  5. Beautiful words. I like the beautiful and messy outside-of-the-ocean life. It is still full of oohs and ahhs.

  6. damn, kid. forgot what a writer you are. no...i take that back. didn't forget, but life is getting in the way of small joys like this misplaced fact.

    nice to spend some time here again.


  7. "you know you can't capture it or explain it or understand it completely. the closest you can do is stick it in glass cage and charge admission,"
    ding. on the dot.
    You're house looks so much more organized and clean than mine :)
    I'm struggling to take photos of my daily life and it looks so messy thru the lens!


use your kind words.