making up with Love

credit: Sarah ClarkSomehow, without me realizing it, all this time that I've been breaking up with crazy, I managed to lose something along the way. 

There I was last night, standing in the audience watching Michael Franti sing against a backdrop of an enormous anatomical heart, bright pink one moment, blue the next, and suddenly there it was. For the last year or so, I have kinda been going without something big:

Love.

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Talking about the family outside the family, part 2

photo: einalem, courtesy of FlickrTelling the truth all the time -- telling the truth every single day as part of what has become my daily practice of writing this blog -- is a pain in the ass.  

This is what I started writing about two weeks ago when I wrote part 1 of Talking about the family outside the family.  Which was me wondering how to deal with the fact that my mother reads me and may not always appreciate my retelling of a childhood story.  How to deal with the sinking oh-shit feeling I had when I read her email response.  But it's not just her, naturally.  Most of the time it's just having mentally to rewind and remember my own words before people quote them back at me.  It's not that I ever write anything I regret.  It's just that it can be challenging, when I make my private thoughts public, to then reclaim the ramparts of my own sacred privacy.  

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