Zen and the Art of Pulling your Head out of your Ass

January 6, 2017

Heart went and ripped herself so violently from my sleeve she left a gory trail back to her blanket fort. I hope she is only colouring in there. Brain is hurting. Vagina is inconsolable. They have joined in the keening and wailing. Logic is walking around hands held high and a smug “I told you so” look on his face, and anorexia is wandering around saying “s’up” over and over and over.

That up there was written sometime last year. I am cleaning out my documents folder.

Buckle up buttercups, we are in for some choppy transitional paragraphs while I cleanse and purge and salvage.

I could look at the date and tell you for sure who that was about, but I think I know.

Sometimes my arms bend back (Black Lodge Laura Palmer, Twin Peaks)

I am tired of craning my neck, straining my back and twisting my arms trying to pull pieces of the past along with me. I have places to go, people to see you see.

Trying to figure out how to stop that shit without the blog suffering.

So many unfinished articles, with such amazing working titles as ‘who puts vodka in a wine spritzer’, ‘falling off my high horse’, chaos and a pot cookie’ and ‘hot neighbor and the break in’.

Just little collections of words that transport me to a parking lot in Collingwood, or back to a night where I was up at 3am to rescue my kid from another city and a bad ex-girlfriend.

Chuck Palahniuk is right, these are just stories I tell myself. Except the pot cookie, which had me comatose, out of body and tripping god’s balls.

Today is Epiphany.

I remember years ago, 9 years to be exact. Standing at the bar I worked at frantically scribbling notes on napkins. It was one of the first things I had written beyond a grocery list or a status update in forever.

Something struck me, like a bell in my soul and I reverberated out, vibrating and whole and happy for the briefest of moments. It felt so good I had to write it down, save it.

And here it is

Zen and the Art of Pulling Your Head Out of Your Ass

“I wish I could bottle this optimism and spike the punch with it at a party” and all y’all are invited.

A bunch of random events occurred at the right time for me and I was just in the right frame of mind to notice them all…

Hello my name is Sarah, it’s been 3 days since I had a temper tantrum…

I couldn’t figure out what to write…and then it found me.
I have been itching for a keyboard for days, scribbling things on scraps of paper at work, but they weren’t what I have to say, they were just stepping stones on my way here.

This is just the beginning. Someone told me the secret to the universe once and I couldn’t clean the shit out of my ears to hear it properly…

Wanna hear it???

*just stop*

Exquisite in its simplicity no?

Contemplate grasshopper…

5 days ago I was lost and traumatized. I used to be fond of the phrase “my universe is collapsing in on itself”…no it wasn’t. It was just evolving, rapidly and taking me along for the ride, it’s my universe after all…I just found my seatbelt.
Today I am Zen and calm and happy because I am full to the brim with gratitude and giddy with optimism.
Wonderful things are coming for me, I can see it and feel it. Karma sent me another telegram, this one said

“it’s time”

full stop.


Part two of *zataopyhooya*

 I am open to hearing any explanation for this…

I bought a purdy calendar at the dollar store near work.
It has flowers on it.

As I was flipping through it I noticed January 6th was labeled

(of all things brilliant and bizarre)


I drew a box around it and thought “hmmm…weird but cool”

And wouldn’t you know it…as I was standing at the bar at work at around 8 on January 6th 2008, the day of epiphany

I just stopped

Smiled my first real smile in a long time

and it stayed.

Sounds like me.

Actually sounds a lot like me. The most me I was for years prior and sadly many years after.

3 days later there was a shooting at the bar I worked at, ex hubby made the 1.5 hour drive from the farm to my house in under an hour. Laid up in my bed at 5am he proposed, again, and dummy me said yes. Thereby negating all prior epiphanies and lodging my head firmly back up my ass where it would remain snuggly and shit stained for 3+ more years.

I see rhyme and reason for everything I went through, but reading that, seeing how close I was then to how I am now has me working out logistics for a time machine. For one magical moment, spanning 72 hours, I saw the future. And I let it slip away.

Ah well, so be it. I suppose I should just be happy that past me had 3 days of peace. Out of 2465.

Next year, in November, I will have been out of there as long as I was in. It’s going to be a good year.

So is this one.

This is my epiphany on Epiphany.

I already know.

I have goals and the means/mindset to smash them.
Travel more, get outside my comfort zone, less time on my phone, more time out in the world, do whatever makes my body feel good. Less drinking, more yoga.

More sex, less angst.

I head to Cassadega tomorrow.

Panda and Our Sara of Lords are coming with me.

Panda said something pretty amazing last night. She said “I don’t know if I want a reading, I already feel like I am going to have a spectacular year.” She doesn’t want it tainted by the words of a stranger.

Less of the first paragraph and more of the last.


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