Greetings from the abyss.

I don't want to know how long it's been since I've posted a blog. It's been a really long time, right? A really, really, really long time. I've run out of things that I think are worth saying. That's my excuse.

I've been thinking about places and the idea of home. I was born in Oregon but I moved to Montana when I was (I think) 6 years old. I have spent most of my life in Montana and most of my memories were grown here in Montana. However, there is still a part of me who thinks of Oregon as home. I used to always list "Baker, OR" as my hometown when I was younger but that eventually changed to "Butte, MT." I haven't been back to Baker, OR since I moved away all those years ago. I don't even know if I could recognize my home there if someone pointed it out to me. I have not spoken to any of the friends I made there in decades and I have never been back. Still, though, when I make the trip into Oregon I feel like pieces of me are sliding into place. The Columbia River Gorge is an artery that branches from my body and mind and I follow it to the places that feel like a bed that's been warmed for my return.

My husband and I moved to Vancouver, WA shortly after our first son was born. I have family there and it was familiar and friendly to me. Our second son was born there and I left behind wonderful friends, moments, and lessons. I left behind easy access to Portland, a relatively short trip to the coast, and a piece of myself that was left in the area long ago. I came back to Montana because it had become home when I wasn't looking.

My heart is in too many places. My heart is in my two children who run around and grow and push my limits. My heart is in my husband who works so hard and makes me want to be better. My heart is in Butte, MT with my parents and brother and my dear friends and the formative years of my adolescence. My heart is in Washington with the friends I made and the strength I gained from people who were face to face with the end. My heart is here in Montana and it's in Oregon, Washington, California, all the way in Japan and wherever anyone and anything I've chosen to love has gone or has stayed.

In the midst of all the scattering and the broad sweeps, I want to gather and hold. I want, in short, a hug.

This is current

Sometimes everything sucks and everything hurts until it doesn't. This isn't a phenomenon that only happens during  a certain part of your life. It will follow you until you (hopefully) die of old age. Life throws everything at you and sometimes it is all at once and you are not equipped to deal with it and maybe you will fuck up everything. It is terrifying and emotionally draining. It is still true.

I don't know how to handle these moments. I've been alive for thirty years (almost thirty-one) and I have no idea how to deal with it, except to drink a lot of wine. Incidentally, that's not the best way to deal with it...

I don't think that there's ever a point where life becomes less confusing. It just continues to confuse you but in different ways. Or it confuses you in an eerily similar way but you've grown enough to be able to see it from a different perspective. Nothing, I'm afraid, gives you a concrete answer. Nothing points a definite way forward. Nothing takes into account the variability of emotion or circumstance. All the time, at every point in your life, you are dealing with something you haven't dealt with before. Fun, right?

I wish I had some incredible insight to bestow. I wish I could say that all you have to do is sit by a fountain at dusk while gazing at poppies and the answer will come to you. That is complete bullshit. The universe doesn't give a shit. The flowers aren't aware of you. Water will fucking drown you and the stars are all dead in the sky and you're just seeing their echoes.

This is why I'm no fun at parties.

Friends have been telling me to update my blog and I'm afraid that this is all I have for you.