New Creation Always comes Out of Old

I am listening to Ruelle radio. I heard a song by her I loved in a movie last night. Wildflower I think the movie was called.

My chest has been heavy lately. Only partially the bad cold I just had. I’ve had anxiety. Which is interesting because in the zoom out, big picture of it all things are going really well. Me doing the work is going really well.

I’m being and becoming more consistent and grounded. I’m in my body more than I’m not. It’s a disconcerting sensation attaching inside a body after years of compensating in a variety of ways and adapting to disconnection.

I am nothing if not adaptable. It’ll be on my headstone. She adapted. It’s not the strongest of the species, but those that can adapt that survive. What was necessary became a lifestyle. What is no longer necessary leaves room for what is essential.

Insert a quote about a prince and his lesson….

Belmont street beckons always. Woodmont is busy today. Normally that would bother me but I’m making time and space for myself anywhere these days.

Today I recognized I’d been too long without the oxygen that being alone provides. Despite all the events being good ones including Elizabeth Gilbert and Rob Bell, it’s a major non negotiable of mine to be alone often and for spans of time. I crave it.

As today I was craving my smoothie water drive and park and meander, through the world and my mind equally.

One day I will look up and…. I lost my train of thought. It went off the tracks. Just like that.

One day maybe I’ll have one of these houses that faces here, because this space is sacred to me. There’s not an explanation. I’m just called to it always and feel at home here.

Hearts are like that too. Inexplicable. Finicky. Unpredictable. I’ve learned a lot about that during my life.

I miss writing here. There’s always so much to say I don’t get to, it pains me.

Life around me is moving fast, and inside me it’s much more still. Thank god.

My nest is nearly empty and yet absolutely full.

My triggers subsiding. Fingers gliding across your surface.

My poet and my scribe and my novelist are all scrambling for front and center lol, no surprise there.

Found twin B her first car. Milestone moment. Able to help and have her do some in her own, the epitome of success as a parent, in my opinion anyway.

I appreciate it all now. Every moment I can get. Yes, even when it’s difficult. Even with a thousand triggers. I’ll take a thousand and one deep breaths. I don’t wanna miss a thing.

She’s leaving for her first year in college. Florida. Bless her. I hate Florida. Hate the humidity and one or two other things. But I’ll love to visit her and hear about what that’s like for her.

The Little Prince has his first apartment with roommates and it’s very close to the house. He’s taking care of himself and learning life.

Twin A is going to finish her second year of college and then head off to UCONN.

In one years time ish unless one comes home I’ll have none of my children living under my roof.

I’m just sitting here facing my beloved water and thinking about this. My life is vast, and full. I’ve lived every inch of it, every corner. And yet there are lifetimes more. How exciting.

My chronic pain is profound. It is not trivial. But I learn to cope a little better every day and it no longer makes me anxious the way it used to. I just learn what I need and how to love and talk to me better. How to listen better.

Heart opening, softening, thawing. Mercy, Grace.

My goal is relaxation and creation. No more hustle and grind. An early retirement of sorts, a peace treaty of the mind.

Man or a monster Sam Tinnesz et Al.

I am proud. That’s what I am. I show up. I stay. I’m steadfast and strong and loving and everything I never came from. And I am finally, finally, not kept out of my own warmth. No more gaslighting. No more making myself small. No accepting less …..

I can’t believe how much cold, hard, estrangement and desolation I lived with inside of me. That breaks my heart.

Monsters by Ruelle. Some kind of theme here :p. I feel endless possibilities at this juncture.

I’m Christina Jenkins now. I’ve never had a last name that felt like home. Now I do. It’s extra ironic and pleasant that was my notebook name of practicing when I dreamt of marrying my first love. And guess what I still love him. A wholesome heartfelt relationship that has lasted our whole lives with a family who loves me as a bonus.

I love my name. Who knew getting married wasn’t the only way to have a name you love or a family for that matter. Now I have many.

An abundance of belonging. And an abundance of tender affections for me.

All my love,

C

Ps it’s a beautiful Saturday. I’m not working. I just saw a Frenchie. I am loved. My needs are met and I now allow my whole story and every inch of my memories and emotions regarding that to exist.

I no longer cut off parts of myself …..