lady of my life

I don't want to see my mom.

She's been on a rapid decline for the past year. Living in an Alzheimer's facility for the past 6 or 8 months.

My mom doesn't really remember me. It's like she knows my name or knows I'm a safe person but she doesn't know who I am. Also she knows I can break her out of the home. But then we're out and having ice cream and she is so confused and happy and angry and telling stories of things that are meandering through her brain. The stories have no basis in reality. And it's hard to take.

I keep thinking I did my time with my mom when I was a teenager. Looking after her when they got a divorce. Going into the psych hospitals to hold her hand while seeing various brothers chain smoking in threadbare robes or shuffling in a drugged out stupor. My most vivid memory is watching her slump to the floor when she found out my brother John was dead. After that, I'd wait up for her at night when she was coming home from class. I was generally nice to her boyfriends and went along for the ride. What else was I to do at 12, 13, 14 and so on...

I moved to Eastern Washington in eleventh grade so she could finish up college and become a teacher. It was good timing for me as I was becoming a super paranoid stoner. I needed to move away from pot and onto alcohol and the cowboy town of Ellensberg was good place for my transition.

We were friends when I needed a mom. I was the caretaker and confidant. And I feel guilt for no longer being able to stay in that role. I'm letting my step dad, brother and sister take the reins now after brow beating them into it, and making all the plans for this home she's in. I've said I came back to the northwest to be near my mom and dad as they age out of this world, but I don't want to see it. I don't want to see the pain and confusion my mom goes through every step of her day. I can handle it, but I don't want to.

My mom taught me to be tough. But she taught me it was so the world wouldn't get the best of me. I want to unlearn that the world is a scary place. I want to find the beauty in relating to it and it's inhabitants with a level of truth and depth that is necessary for me to thrive.

Don't get me wrong. I love my mother dearly. It's just that I can't share myself with her anymore, she's not there to talk about the times we had, the fun we shared and the battles that raged. I think I may just want to keep it for me so it stays secure in my memory banks.

I'm going tomorrow to see my mom. I'll take her for ice cream and tell her about my life and my impending trip to New York. Her eyes will light up at the sound of it. My fear may subside and I just might think, why don't I do this more often...

rough ride

This week has shut me up
And closed me off
I don't want to talk to anyone
I feel afraid
And suspect people
I want to be left alone
To make my choices
And suffer the consequences

peru and poly

I thought that hiking in the Andie's for four days was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life. The hardest and most rewarding both. I’ve said that to people for years now. It was strenuous and beautiful and more than exhausting. Scary in it’s unknown and phenomenal in it’s discovery both physical and psychological.

I’m discovering that polyamory is much like that hike. If only the process could be "completed" in all it’s glory in the four days it took to hike the Inca Trail. This is a process and a learning experience that may be life long. An exciting, excruciating, loving, lonely and life altering experience much like that hike.

I’ve been thinking a lot about capacity. What it means to “have the capacity”. I was on an elevator this weekend and one sign said 13 people max capacity and the other sign said 12 people max capacity. How much do we humans have? How much can our hearts hold and give? Can we trust our brains to help us understand the capacity of our heart or are they two different animals not connected? Can you imaging a world where there is too much love going around?

I’ve been polyamorous, or non-monogamous for most of my life. For seven years acting on it, but these past few years I've begun finding a way that feels whole and healthy and real for me. I know I have the capacity to love and love large and I have the capacity to receive a lot too. The problem isn’t love though, It’s the sex and the intimacy. We’re taught so early that “the right one” will come to us if we hold out and wait for it. Many people are impatient and end up making mistake after mistake and blaming their parents or the other person but rarely would they consider that the truth is, there just may not be “the one”. There might be one person that makes you silly happy, but there just may be two or three or more!?

Prior to going to Peru I had been preparing for this trip- hiking around Mt. Hood, and some trails in Utah and Colorado. I went to Peru to hike the Inca Trail with Kristin. On the second day we made it to the top of the highest pass. I was 38 or so and one of the oldest people actually carrying my own bag. Most people were on tours and had elaborate set-ups with porters and hot towels and cocoa in the morning. Kristin and I had instant miso soup and freeze dried breakfast, lunch and dinner. We fought fear and pain and heights that literally took our breath away. Up to the first pass I was able to count 1-2-3 steps, then I would have to stop and catch my breath and wait for my heart to stop racing. Again 1-2-3-4 and stop, breathe and be amazed by how fast my heart could run. I was not alone in this, but Kristin passed me up and eventually sent a porter down for my bag so I could more easily make it the last few hundred yards to the nearly 15,000 ft. summit. When I arrived, I reached into my nap sack, pulled on my down jacket and fell fast asleep.

I feel a bit more prepared for this trip but remembering the last leg of the first pass still takes my breath away. I'm hoping to stay sober and awake during this life transition. I'm working to speak clearly and take time out when things are escalating. I've learned, like a lot of folks that love is meant to be shared, in an intimate way with only one other. It’s fucked me up in many of my adult relationships and I’m working very hard to change my brain around this. Judgement comes in many forms from many people and chips away at the fragile foundation I am laying for myself and working to help build for and with my partners. Judgement and shame are so ingrained we don’t think twice about how our words infect and spread.

I love my life and feel too old to take steps back. I continue to move forward in a way that is loving and kind and hope my girlfriend and lover can keep up and find their place in this with me. I don't want to force anything, but I know my own life must take precedence now and I am taking steps to make my world whole. I am inviting people in and sharing more of myself than I have in years. I'm open to new possibilities and shedding the outer shell that has been grasping me for too long. It feels good and I see people gravitating toward me in a new way. I'm proud of myself and proud I am finally letting go of the cultural expectations and finding me.

Peru was a fantastic journey where I saw things most people will never see. The only way to get to them is to make the grueling trek into the mountains on foot. This journey into polyamory is also proving to be rigorous, but like the Inca Trail, it's full of eye popping ruins, heavenly cloud forests and remarkable connections with unknown travelers all along the way.

my poly process

Last weekend I was in Brooklyn

Spending time with my lover Liz

We've been seeing each other since March

It's been hard on my relationship with Felice


When I met Felice I confessed my quest for non-monogamy

Felice confessed she was a monogamist - of sorts

I assumed she would see the light

I think she assumed the same

We love each other dearly


Liz and I fell in love

We are all plowing through


We talk, and talk, and talk

Me with Felice

Me with Liz


We cry and talk some more

Me with Liz

Me with Felice


My dream is

Felice and Liz

And Me

That will be the true beginning