Relax, It’s All Good



Sometimes it is just a challenge to let myself have a day.

A day to walk.

A day to sit.

A day to read.

My head got away with me after yesterday’s successful foray into the writing.

Or maybe I just needed to regroup.

Or maybe I need to get laid.

All of the above.

I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.  It wasn’t a calculated thing and I realized after being grumpy for no good reason that I was in fear.

There she blows, fear of financial insecurity striking home once again.  I got a little in my head and I found it challenging to get out.  I walked a lot.  I went to the Petit Palais and I took in the free exhibit.

Which was all about Venice, I am feeling it, I am.

Venice you are not too far away are you?

I would prefer to go to Venice with someone though.

I mean, I don’t mind being a single lady in the City of Lights, but sometimes I do think it would be nice to have a companion to go about town with.  I know that I should just count myself lucky to be able to go about Paris at all.

I am staving off the pity party.

It and the “I need money” party need to go hit up that wedding reception over there and leave me alone, just don’t tell them that the open bar only serves Perrier.

I went for two walks today and I got a little harassed, I also realized as I was walking that I had gone further into the Saint Denise, read prostitution, neighborhood then I meant too.

I had gotten a bit turned around, not lost, but just slightly askew, I have to continue to remind myself that the streets do not run parallel.

No they do not.

I found this little side street and went down it.

Then found a covered market and wandered through it.

Lastly, I crossed the street to take a photograph of some street graffiti and then the next thing you know I am being catcalled and I am not in my neighborhood anymore.


And I am wearing hot pink tights, a turquoise mini dress and a hot pink sweater.

I might as well have had a neon sign on me.

“Pssst,” he said from a bench, “I like pink.”


Run away.

I got back on the right track and went back to the house.  I downloaded some photographs and I read for a while and I tried to stay off the internet until it was time to do some posting.

I put on some Nina Simone.

I am listening to her right now.

I sent out a query.

I get the blues ’bout every night since I fell for you.

Sing it Nina.

I fell for Paris.

Long before I even landed here.

I think I was having a little of the “I don’t belong here” syndrome today.  Feelings are not facts though, and I am constantly reminded that no matter what happens I am ok and I am doing it.

Whatever the hell “it” is.

I am going to have off days and today was a little off.

That’s ok.

I still did plenty.

I am still doing plenty, as I write, as I blog, as I load some more photographs up.

As I allow myself to be me.

In, or out of my hot pink tights.

Looking at all the stacks of notebooks and books and the camera and I know that I am on the correct path, just heading down another bend in the road with no visuals.

If I let myself lean into it, everything is fine, and exhilarating.

The weather is getting warmer, I know that won’t last, there’s at least another cold week or two in the future, but after that, sitting in the parks, in the sun.


I know it is coming and I can hang in there until it does.

Life is always changing, I will meet new people, have new circumstances, develop new talents.

That is what has been sticking in my head, the ability to allow myself to fail to develop new hidden talents.  I made the leap and I can’t see what’s underneath me.

I imagine it is a yawning chasm of black glass shards and despair bright and coppery as the blood on my tongue after biting the inside of my cheek.

There is, really, probably a big feather bed with a warm comforter on it and light and green plants and an arm around me, safe and strong, holding me close.

But nope, my head sees–



Blah, blah, blah.

Fear, it’s all just fear and despite my needless worry machine launching in my head, I am completely fine.  Taken care of, loved, and alive.

I am alive.

I got to take a walk through a palace today, for Pete’s sake.

I also need to acknowledge that I had a challenging time getting to the writing today, felt a little written out after all the activity yesterday.  Feel like I still need to do some writing though, even if it is just to jot down a note or two, a poem.

A sentence.

Then again, I may just let the blogging speak for itself today and let the short story I started yesterday simmer a little longer on the stove.   I may just cut myself a little slack and make a snack and a cup of tea and watch a little movie.

I can read some more as well.

I will be at Bert’s all day tomorrow, so I know I will be getting in a good bout of writing in between rounds of meeting folks.  I will be camped out, hopefully on the couch in the back, for the majority of the afternoon.

I think I shall finish off the short tomorrow and then, well, I will just keep trying.

I will keep up the good fight, I will keep letting myself make mistakes and fall apart and get back up and maybe shed a tear or three and live, and feel and let myself feel and love and let myself be loved.

Most of all I will acknowledge that it’s all good, it’s all happening exactly as it’s supposed to and I am smash on the right path at the right time and I am taken care of despite the horror show in my head.

I am just fine.

Here, in Paris.

I am better than fine.

Everything is coming up pink.


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One Response to “Relax, It’s All Good”

  1. nbyrley Says:

    Amazing. I loved the flow and beat of it.

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