Mere Intention

be vulnerable

Month: October, 2012


My four year old and I in the car:

~ mom, who will i marry?

~ i don’t know, honey.

~ what’s his name?

~ no idea!

~ can boys marry boys?

~ yes.

~ can girls marry girls?

~ yes.

~ well, i’m going to marry a girl.

~ that’s great!

~ i’m going to do that, okay?

~ yes, that’s totally great if you want to marry a girl.

~ can we both wear dresses?

~ yes, of course!

~ can we both carry flowers?

~ yes. you can do whatever the two of you want because it’s your wedding!

~ that will be fun.


Through for the Day

This is my EnneaThought for the day, received in my email this morning:

As the seasons change, why don’t you try something different, too? What would happen if you put aside your list of people to contact and spent some quality time alone?
Well, isn’t that nice timing.


by Robert Frost

O hushed October morning mild,

Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;

Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,

Should waste them all.

The crows above the forest call;

Tomorrow they may form and go.

O hushed October morning mild,

Begin the hours of this day slow.

Make the day seem to us less brief.

Hearts not averse to being beguiled,

Beguile us in the way you know.

Release one leaf at break of day;

At noon release another leaf;

One from our trees, one far away.

Retard the sun with gentle mist;

Enchant the land with amethyst.

Slow, slow!

For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,

Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,

Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—

For the grapes’ sake along the wall.

Sometimes a Girl Just Needs a Dog

Yesterday I picked up my dog. Seriously. This guy is mine.

He’s old. He’s gigantic. He’s quiet. He doesn’t snore. He ignores the other dog. He just exists with me.

I realize that things could change, as he may actually be depressed to be leaving his former home of 8 years, but I’m pretty confident he likes me. I started with bribery – treats in my pocket for him when we picked him up. Done. I mean, he is a dog after all.

Deciding to become a two dog house was a big deal for me. I mean, I can’t keep things together with the four humans and one active dog that already lives here. Or at least, I haven’t been trying to keep things together. There’s only so much a hormonally unbalanced, unemployed girl can do. But, over dinner one night the family discussed the prospect of o’l boy coming to live with us. The extra food to feed. The extra (big) poop to be picked up. Vet bills. City license’s.

I need balance of personality in the house. My three humans are morning people, as is the little original dog. They are all active, funny, happy, all up in my face (I can usually deal with the people, but not the dog). I just want a teammate, a companion. He hardly needs anything from me, but is totally there when I need him to be. I can curl up next to him and get some energy by osmosis. Or calm myself with his steady breathing and warm body.

He’s probably going to die unexpectedly in six months.

Mr. Frost

I just read A Boy’s Will, Robert Frost’s first published works from 1915. Quite a few of the poems moved me. I’ll share a few here and there.

A Late Walk

When I go up through the mowing field,
The headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden path.

And when I come to the garden ground,
The whir of sober birds
Up from the tangle of withered weeds
Is sadder than any words

A tree beside the wall stands bare,
But a leaf that lingered brown,
Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,
Comes softly rattling down.

I end not far from my going forth
By picking the faded blue
Of the last remaining aster flower
To carry again to you.

I’m a Two. What are You?

I like the Enneagram. I’m a 2.

I receive an EnneaThought each evening for the following day according to my 2-ness. They way they ring true is – um – creepy.

October 19, 2012 – Try this Affirmation today: “I now affirm that I nurture my own growth and development.”

Whaaaa? Are you kidding me? These things just keep punching me in the gut.

What is your number?

If you don’t  know, scroll down this page and answer the 36 questions. Then leave a comment with your results!


Okay, so after some constructive feedback from my therapist, I am working on re-framing my opinion and understanding of myself in respect to being described as accommodating.

Apparently, being accommodating in and of itself doesn’t need to be negative. It can actually be a compliment. Like, being able to be sensitive to the needs of others and react in an appropriate way. Being willing to help people. Caring for and nurturing those around me. Okay, fine. I can see where these things aren’t bad. The point my therapist made was that the people who really love me and care about me as a person see me in this positive light, not as their doormat…though there may be a few individuals who do use me as a doormat and I need to set some serious boundaries with them.

This therapy card is a hard one to play. I’ve only had two appointments and I find myself struggling to stay concise with the information I’m putting out there. There’s so much emotional charge behind everything…I’m waiting for the shit to explode everywhere. Still feeling very preliminary in our conversations, which is appropriate to get a good, accurate foundation.

I have/had no intention of this space becoming a place for me to process therapy sessions, but hey, here it is. And it’s making sense. And I’m merely being intentional by going to therapy and writing. That’s what I’ve got right now.


I walked into my first therapy session today. For myself. 

I’ve been to therapy one other time as an adult – three sessions and an adjustment to my hormones and I was off the ledge of clinical depression and have carried on fine since then, 7 years. Or so I’ve kept telling myself.

Self care. What the hell is that? It’s not something I’ve seen done well, and when I have, it’s by people in a different life stage than me, but when I have seen it there is one distinction – choice. And there are so few people who have made that choice, at least in my circles.

Walking into that office today – a psychiatric outpatient clinic sign on the building – was hard. I know I am supported. I know I am loved. I’m not trying to blame things on anyone (if some things/people get labeled, that’s fine, but I don’t need to revisit and fix anything). The past can not be changed, but how I interact with the now and the future is in my control – is my personal choice.

Accommodating. This is apparently who I am. I don’t know why (yet) and I’ve asked a handful of my closest people and they agree that this description fits me. Honestly, it pisses me off. What a terrible word.

Compassionate, empathetic, nurturing…those are fine, but accommodating – yeah, that throws me off. It’s negative to me. And it makes me mad that my closest ones agree! That means that they KNOW I accommodate them! Come on. Feeling as discombobulated as I have the last few months the last thing I want is to hear that people know I’ll do what they want me to. Awesome.

Self care was touched on today in the session. Accommodating wasn’t. Should be interesting.

This Matchbox Twenty chorus keeps coming to mind:

I’m not crazy I’m just a little unwell

I know right know you can’t tell

But stay a while and maybe then you’ll see

A different side of me