Be the change you want to see.

Today the Republicans substitute thug for the center syllable pushed through Amy Barrett what's her name to the supreme Court They don't even care that they're hypocrites. They don't even care about being bad winners They don't even care that people are dying have died more will die more than that will be crippled in different ways because of them disabling the safety net and failing to respond to the pandemic.

I used to have a lot of practice at holding my rage still at the time I didn't understand how to use my rage for a tool.

I am learning how to make my rage into a tool.

But anytime that there's enough rage that it might damage me, I have to think about how to take care of myself how to anneal the container in which my rage is held so that it doesn't burn me. So I thought I would share my first impulses today.

I had a distant impulse of wanting to punch a wall or flail, in such a way that I would likely sustain damage. Fortunately like I said that was a distant impulse not an immediate or actionable impulse. I never was a wall puncher. So what I decided to do today was a plan what I was going to write now. How to care for the self so that the self can survive the rage quake, and how to use the rage constructively on the one hand and destructively on the other hand but consciously.

I knew I needed food so that was the first thing I took care of and got myself food there was an open bottle of wine I got a glass of water and I had a glass of wine. I ate the cheap comfort chocolate. I ate the high protein macadamias that we just recently picked up. They were delicious the process has been enjoyable, and that helps to lessen the rage.

I will drink more water tonight. I will have a good meal tonight. I will do some laundry tonight. I will let the cat sit on me tonight. I will write some fiction tonight or I will do daily pages tonight. When I have small medical issues to attend to and I'm having a bad day it's often a good day to take care of those small issues. I will usually trim my hangnails on a day like today so that I have less of the minor irritants that can cause impulsive behavior and wind up with me bleeding all over my fingertip. If my toenails are sharp I will cut them back and I will make sure that I get the corners and edges so that they don't cut me.

I will go outside, I am currently outside, looking at something green. I will listen to some of the outside noises if there are some. Birds. Water. The traffic noise that comes over from the freeway that's three streets over in one direction and five streets over in the other direction. I will spend some time being conscious of what's going on around me. The feel of the patio boards under my feet. The sound of the neighbor hammering because they're building an addition on their house. A taste of the wine. Watch the cat breathing.

Because. I have to remember. I have to remember that there are good things in the world. And I have to use these concrete methods to remind myself there are good things in the world, and I need to get with my community to remember that there are good people in the world.

And then later tonight I'm going to look at how much I have in my PayPal, and I'm going to look at the hotly contended races for senator and I'm going to find one that's not overfunded and I'm going to send the money. Because that is something concrete I can do to help.

old ghosts (tw: termination of pregnancy)

I was looking in the mirror one day and thought, "I would have none of this if I hadn't ended the pregnancy."

I was 25 years old when I got pregnant.
Can't decide if I should phrase that as "had an unwanted pregnancy", "got impregnated", or what. "got knocked up" isn't quite appropriate for the situation, because I can't afford in telling this story to be too flippant.

it was 1995. My dad had been dead less than a year, after being sick from diabetes and liver damage for several years, declining worse each year.
Mom and I were living together, in the house on Papaya Drive with the 1970's Spanish tile floors and the little fish pond and waterfall in the back yard. I had a great view of the green green green backyard, and had the constant waterfall noise in my ears every night as I fell asleep.


The smell and the feel of that house inform my memories of the time.

Brian and I were having sex and he didn't tell me that the condom broke, till after. Like, it still puzzles me, he says he felt it tearing, he says it was actually kind of painful for him, but he kept going.

He told me afterwards that he thought I wanted him to, to keep going, which yeah, who doesn't wanna get off, but seriously WHAT KIND OF ASSHOLE DOESN'T TELL HIS GIRLFRIEND THAT THE CONDOM BROKE. I still ... *makes incoherent rage noises*

You know how I learned that the condom broke? I reached down to hold the top of the condom when he went to pull out, and the horror of it was that all there was to hold was the ring that was the top of it. That was all that was left. … we had to dig inside my vagina and find it to pull it back out….

I could try to put possible reasons on what he was thinking, maybe it was as simple as HE wanted to get off too so he kept going even without the condom.

But I don't really wanna think about his alleged motivations because **I** was the one who wound up pregnant.

I felt the change in my body almost immediately. Within just a few days after the "accident," my boobs got bigger, the nipples got softer and more tender. My pussy and labia were constantly hot and tender, and I just had this internal *awareness* low in my pelvis and belly. And I had so many feelings about all of it.

mostly I came to a sudden and crystallized awareness that, more than not wanting to have to raise a child, I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with BRIAN. And I knew immediately, at a gut level, that in some way or another, no matter what else, I'd have to deal with Brian forever if I chose to have this kid.

and it was almost inconceivable anyway, (heh, yeah I went there) to think of having a kid. You spend so much of your early adolescence and twenties controlling your fertility really tightly, worried about the what-if. And sex is mostly fun, mostly meant to be fun, when you're not in a serious relationship and *planning* to have a kid…*

I had done research for a paper in college into medical side effects of being pregnant, it's no kind of easy walk in the park! There's real risk of gestational diabetes, blood pressure problems, varicose veins, digestion issues, likelihood of daily vomiting over months, *massive* mood swings and hormone changes, I mean the number of side effects you have to suffer through for a WANTED pregnancy, not to mention the non-zero risk of DEATH, or single parenthood, or ... all the different ways your children hurt you or break your heart.

That little... blue line on the pregnancy test. Oh my god. Possibly the scariest thing I've ever seen, and I already even KNEW. Like, there was no MISTAKING what my body was doing. I had this swirl of emotions going through my brain and body.


And I left the test on the bathroom counter, under a sheet of newspaper.(back when we still took the paper) Like I had zero idea how to talk to my mom about this. I was terrified I was going to be a disappointment to her, but I knew without thinking that if I *didn't* conceal this test, she would find it and know and help me. (and it turned out that she did find it, and she did help me, which I'll talk about at the end)

I can't even tell you about all the other things I was feeling then because even now, 25 years later, it's still hard thinking about that time in my life; emotional chaos and turmoil, still angry and grieving my father's death, along with everything else. I know I haven't quite forgiven myself for my own ignorance (and what feel like bad-choices when I am being hard on myself).

Though, trust me I do know all about the extenuating circumstances. I know why I made those bad choices especially because I have gotten therapy and done a lot of self work over the last two decades. I can see my own patterns and recognize where those impulses arose from and I don't let that part of myself drive the bus anymore, because I've healed a lot of those childhood injuries, or at least mostly healed them. Largely through talking and writing, both writing the blog and longhand and poetry. All kinds of ways.

I was 25, and Brian was 28. Theoretically that was old enough to know what we wanted, but both of us were dumb and inexperienced in relationships. We'd not really thought and especially not talked about what we wanted at the time or at any time in the future. We were just slinging along together because I think both of us thought we were the best we could do.

But we were old enough to decide if we wanted to have a child together and we met at Tower Cafe in downtown Sacramento to talk about it. about two weeks after the condom broke and a few days after I had taken the test. I'd said "we need to get together and to talk face to face" and he said yes, so we scheduled it. We hadn't even sat down properly at the patio table when Brian said, "You're pregnant, aren't you?" and I said yes. I don't remember exactly how the conversation went but I remember it wasn't a difficult or stressful one.

We were unanimous, that we didn't want to have a child (together), and we were both relieved to find that out. That neither of us had to try and convince the other to keep or to terminate. We were agreed to terminate.

I made the appointment. I had to stay pregnant for a total of eight weeks before the hospital could perform the procedure. I don't remember why that was.

To his credit,(Brian) did take me to the appointment, and did get me home safely.

My mom, and this makes my eyes fill up with tears, had a heating pad, an extra blanket, and she'd set up her bed, the big bed, for me to have a nap. She brought me a bed tray with my favorite tea, some toast with jam, and a little rose-bud in a little vase. I absolutely did cry from that, and everything else.

Brian stayed with me there on the bed until I had the snack and fell asleep. It was dark when I woke up, and he wasn't there anymore, and I was disappointed and angry, but realized there was really only so much I could expect from the guy.

Mom was good to me. No judgment, no anger, just support. She had my back. I had her back. We were a good team back then.

I don't like contemplating alternate universes for this story. Like, the what-if game doesn't work out well for me.

in 1995 I hadn't gone back to school to get a teaching credential.

I hadn't met my first husband, or even the boyfriend before him (who was and is a better human being and more thoughtful and kind than either Brian or my first husband).
I hadn't started my spiritual journey that gives me so much richness and meaning in my life (and which I was turned on to by the boyfriend I mention above)///
I hadn't started getting therapy for my relationship with my dad and my inability to grieve him or to get out of the anger stage of the grief.

My mind shudders away from the idea of having had to raise a kid in the conditions we were living in. Not that those were horrible, but it would have been stressful, hard work. And while I know motherhood is supposed to have its rewards, I just don't even know how I would have coped, without the skills that I have been able to acquire BECAUSE I didn't have a kid...

It's this fork in the road that my life took, and I DEFINITIVELY chose the one path and left the other path behind.

I'm glad I am HERE. I'm glad that THIS is what it is. I'm glad to have Eeyore and my priesthood and Burning Man and a lot of beloved friends. I'm glad to have the writing, and the making and the sewing and the dancing, and the work toward social justice.

The ability to choose when and whether to have a child is HUGE in your ability to determine your life's path. HUGE./// 12 Minutes

I don't have any kind of snappy ending, except that I am grateful that I got the chance to have the choice about whether or not to have a kid, and I will continue to fight for other people's right to chose whether to have a kid or not.

NOTES Performed this on the spoken word stage at center camp, Burning Man 2019 Mon August 26. One woman thanked me and cried. One man told me about, before he knew he was gay, his girlfriend got pregnant, and when she miscarried, they also cuddled in bed with the heating pad. And a couple that were pregnant (8 months) and beautiful "the first one I've carried to term"
But the last person said, "did you do this as a TED talk? It feels familiar" and I said no, it was a blog post and he said "huh well I guess we know what comes next"
SQUEEEEEEEEE

TAGS abortion, actions have consequences, anger, becoming, challenge, children, choice, dad, death, designing my own life, feeling some feelings, feelings, guilt, karma, life is good, making things, mom, open hearted, pagan practice in everyday life, paradigm shift, parent, past lives, pathwork, personal cartography, pregnancy, probably more than you really wanted to , sad, self, self-worth, spirituality, state of the liz, stomping brain weasels, stream of consciousness, taking care of business., truth falling out of my mouth, what doesn't kill me makes me stronger, words, spoken word, burning man

Poem a day
Haunted Object, Day 7

The skull clattered on the mantlepiece.
An unearthly voice cleaved the darkness:
...repent...
said the voice, as ice crystals formed on the windows.
*
Shivering, and full of nameless fears, I replied,
"wwwhat? what should I repent, dread spirit?"
*
The bones rattled again, in a decidedly impatient fashion, I thought.
*
...repent your lies... repent your drunkenness and debauchery ... repent that hole in your heart where compassion should be! ... repent your betrayal of the American Dream!...
Gradually growing louder, it finally yelled, ...and repent all of your actions, which have besmirched your family name!...
*
after a moment of terror, the penny dropped for me.
*
"Oh honey. You're haunting the wrong family member. I'm BRITTANY Kavanaugh. You obviously want my punk-ass bitch cousin Brett, who never met a beer he didn't like or a girl he didn't lust after in his heart."
*
The moment of silence that came from the clattering skull could have been characterized as sheepish.
*
...very well then...
*
The temperature of the room slowly began to increase, and my breath stopped fogging in the air.
*
...you may pass. my apologiesssssssss for the error...
*
Best believe I was out of there faster than a Republican denies responsibility for his or her actions...
*
*
*
Apologies for bringing current events into it, but I'm going with the first prompt interpretation that hits my brain, and I thought this was funny. it's better than the rage I've been swimming in, I'll take it.