Learning to breathe when the world is unraveling

This was supposed to be fun, open up the creative juice box (ooh, that sounds dirty), instill self-discipline, offer a sense of accomplishment, establish a pattern of daily writing that can only make me rich. Or famous. Or maybe just happy.

I challenged myself with National Blog Posting Month #NaBloPoMo, to post one blog a day for month of November.

I was ready. I am ready. I can do this. Here is a partial brain dump idea list I compiled:

scarecrows; gifted & talented my ass; ironing hand-me-downs; iphone potty party; what’s happening to me; pot brownies and pancreatic cancer; captains moms, my vagina; in-law xmas gift list; newtown action national DC vigil; pentecostal promises; kathleen’s trunk; white people apps; pay-to-play; happy hour bribes; sexist sports; uncle gordon and guns; red jeans and ass cracks; if you give a man a birth control pill; capture-the-flag; laughing emcee at the crying convention; bonfires and blowjobs; mazel tov; expiration dates; the grounded helicopter parent; can anyone tell me the powerschool login? …. to name just a few ideas I have bouncing around in my head to get the one-day-one-essay job done.

Inside my head is kinda a mess.

People, these are just snippets written on the back of a CVS receipt and shoved into the cup holder in the console of my Honda Pilot. I have two other cars. I have many more receipts.

Makes no sense to you, or to me really, but this is my organizational method. This is content creation for a month of humor and not-so-funny slices of life that was supposed to be November.

Except when Election Day bites you in the ass (before grabbing you by the pussy)

Sorry, couldn’t resist.

Election day was upon us, and the next day when we elected hate to rule the free world. And by we I mean white college educated women. Our black and hispanic and women of color got shit done, but us stupid white girls, 53% of us, voted for the sexual predator.

So now the pussy grabbing president is my president because people don’t know enough to go and read the rock outside the Statue of Liberty. We will absolutely need a new inscription that reflects the president-elect. This unpatriotic blasphemy obviously will not do under the Trump regime.

Sigh.

I’ve lost my funny before. That was personal.

This time it’s global. My funny is on hiatus, but is coming back fueled by anger and rage at the apathy and ignorance that got us here.

We are a nation of dumb fucks. Our education system is whacked if this is who we are calling Mr. President for the next four years.

So I went to yoga. Haven’t been in over 4 years, since I hurt my back and broke my heart, but I went back this morning.

To learn to breathe.

And calm my mind.

And slow my heart.

And center myself in the present, in order to reach farther, stretch further, accept more, if even for just one more breath.

We all must adapt, evolve, and become more flexible, patient, and kind in different situations.

Like the one we live in now.