About

What about me .. today? After all, I’m not a photographic image. I’m not set in stone but do feel like I’m being shaped and polished in this life. I don’t believe there is ever a completion. I’m a person whose a little more complicated than I can grasp at times, I may be peri-menopausal, I could need more sleep — I’ve noticed that sometimes my response to life can be soured, other times I am utterly joy filled over something you might think is lame … like rain, good coffee and clean sheets. Running through the tall grass, dining on good food, seeing smiles on little faces and hearing giggles in the house are among my greatest happinesses — it’s this kind of stuff that brings me to tears. I have books in my bed and poems to suit every mood nearby, like this one by Ani DiFranco:

PLATFORMS

life knocked me off my platforms

so I pulled out my first pair of boots

bought on the street at astor place

before new york was run by suits

and i suited up for the long walk

back to myself

closer to the ground now

with sorrow

and stealth

Ani is a single mother and folk singer artist who comes closest to understanding life from my ground level view. I listen her music when I feel beside myself, when it feels like there’s too much on my shoulder’s to bare. Music soothes me, chocolate does too, it’s been this way as far as I can remember. I’m a dandelion seed in the wind.

It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power.

—Alan Cohen

I think I spend too much time thinking about how I feel. I feel tired. I don’t feel like writing tonight. I feel good. I feel anxious. I feel scared. I feel pain. I feel your pain. I feel groovy. I feel like a dog. I wonder why I never feel like a cat. Cats know why, dogs do too, but dogs don’t leave me alone, cats do. At times I feel like I could be a cat but I’m more like a dog. I feel like I understand more than I don’t. I feel like I don’t understand what I just wrote. But I feel like that’s OK. I feel as though there’s a reason for everything. I don’t feel as though it’s driven by a God. I don’t feel like a God. I feel like there is a God, but no where near anything I feel I could imagine. I feel as though I love everyone and everything, but some more than others. For this I feel I should confess. I confess. I feel sexy, especially when you make me feel that way. I also feel that I would like for you to feel the same way when I am feeling sexy because you’re making me feel that way. I feel this could happen, but more than likely it won’t. Not yet. I feel like a soured lizard looking. I feel like a liar lacking. I feel like an old fool. I feel as though I’m fooling myself again. I feel as though I’m not quite sure about what I wrote again. And again and again and again. But then again, this is just a blog … I suppose I should ask the blog …what it feels. As for me, I feel as though I love unconditionally.

There are more biographical things you might want to know, like a series of events that happened in my life, some of which have made me who I am and who I’m not. The less liquid version may explain some of why I don’t run with the herd. I don’t really understand the herd either, I confess. I’m just a witness. I don’t buy what mainstream media delivers, I question the dreams created by consumerist minds. I don’t own a television either. I don’t know why you’d want to know that — except that you should know that I don’t know what you’re talking about when you speak about the latest episode of CSI. Current events happen here in my home and the news of the day is tied to my children, my cats, my dogs, school, friends and neighbors. It’s all fairly quiet … I have great moments of silence weaved in between the bustle of day to day life when I pray. I create web banners to pay for my classes. I blog, I read books. I totally comprehend Rumi when he said,

“God turns you from one feeling to another and teaches by means of opposites, so that you will have two wings to fly, not one.”

I am a single parent of two grown boys ages 24 and 16, and two little girls that are 9 and 12 — they are my family, they are the ones that I sing about daily. I could basically stop here because my world revolves entirely around this. Everything else is history in the making.

I was born of two parents; have one sister, one brother, nine nieces and nephews. I have three causes. I currently live in Des Moines, where I was raised and where some of my family resides. I grew up in a family of printers and although I was without a formal education, I succeeded in fine arts, illustration, graphic design and publishing. I’m an intense creative whose become a student in mid-life. I live my life on purpose, open hearted and out loud. (It brought my smile back … that’s why) I like hearing from those who read my blog — I find strength among mothers I admire, unsung heroines. The experiences I write about are mine, this journey is meant to be shared and explored. I’m always updating my page and my view, it brings clarity.

I come from a time when the Walton’s and Little House on the Prairie were great shows. I come from the music born in the sixties and seventies. I come from the people who loved me with open arms at the church of my youth. I come from my grandmother who used to tell me my hands knew exactly what to do, I believed her. I come from a father addicted to alcohol and a mother to full of fear to admit a bad choice, God rest her soul. She had four children, three didn’t graduate from high school. We worked, sought peace and went on our way much earlier than you might guess. I learned the depths and degrees of consequence and I’m grateful. As a child I was given problems to solve and I consider that a true gift — one I share with children who grow up without a stable upbringing, in homes void of love and nurturing and affection. Growing up in such a way gives you great insight into being a parent you can genuinely feel good about, for that I have no regrets. I see things through the eyes of a child. Neither do I have a reason to forgive anyone … I don’t. We’re all born with a purity worth preserving.

I speak for the compassionates, those who are true to themselves — people who embrace their own weaknesses. Love imperfection. I speak to those that recognize their own strengths and make the most of the gifts they’ve been given. I speak for domestic violence survivors who’ve been silenced and shamed. I speak for women who choose life and bare the consequences of choosing the wrong mate. Again, no cause for regret, I’m not telling the shape of events to gain sympathy for a sorrow long passed. I wouldn’t change a thing. I love my life, I love words and I love stories too. Mostly, I love people. I’ve been ostracized for loving the people that I do, for being divorced, for making mistakes, for having problems … we’re all subject to a multitude of beliefs that don’t make sense and can’t stand reason. I believe in love.

I come from a life that gave me four children born into three marriages. The first two were brief, my sons were just infants. The third brought me closer to God and gave me a deeper belief in the kindness of strangers. I had two little girls, buried twin baby boys, lost everything in a house fire. I learned what despair really means — and I also learned that what’s right in front of you now is everything that really matters … it’s the life happening all around you. When I was younger I used to find myself wishing I were more ‘normal’ until I realized that too was an illusion. (Like Martha Stewart for instance) There is no ‘norm’ in families that make up America. There is no ‘norm’ for marriage when people make promises they never intended to keep. There is no ‘norm’ when people turn violent in their own home. There is no ‘norm’ when two people can’t resolve their differences without court intervention. I never believed in Prince Charming but what I did believe in was the code of honor that was broadcast on the Walton’s. I still hold that as my aim. Of the three men I married I loved them dearly then and I still do — although, I confess it’s more of a motherly kind of love I cannot quite describe. They are not the prisoners they once believed they were … so it’s progressed.

Random fact Seventeen

In 2007 I became a certified Mediator after two and a half years stuck in legal proceedings of my last divorce. I negotiated my divorce within a month. I volunteer these services to women in Iowa who seek divorce and are limited in financial resources.

I come from years upon years as a single mother. I speak for single moms who have talent, ambition and passion, and to all mothers who know what success really means. I’m happy to know other mothers who grasp the challenge of raising the next generation … it’s a huge job all by itself and what really matters the most in this world. I speak for single mothers who have the courage to see when it’s time to pick up the pieces and move on. I speak for mothers whose children are confused by their fathers lack of interest or unwillingness to evolve or grow up. (Even my children have their own path to lead in this life) I know what it feels like to descend from a building that’s one hundred stories high into the big blue yonder … no net beneath, no one holding your hand. It takes a lot of faith to parent alone, but then again that’s how you learn to fly. I speak for parents who want more for their children than a system of checks and balances in our schools. I speak for parents who hold neighbors and others in their communities to behave more responsibly. I have a lot of hope in human kind.

I come from Morse too. Living there for just a little more than a year it’s still fresh in my mind. I organized a town-sized garage sale, gathered folks together for a chili cook-off and when neighbors and friends suggested a newspaper for Morse I couldn’t resist. That’s how this blog began, in the spirit of community in a small town near Iowa City amid the rolling hills. I found my new friend was the town gossip after I moved there; I wasn’t the only sacrificial lamb — watch out for Jane Balvanz, she even followed me to Des Moines on my blog. (It’s all in the archives) I speak for those who’ve been bullied and harassed beyond belief. Intimidation tactics don’t work in my world.

I learned to look for answers in nature to make sense of this world. I realize how perfectly everything was created in nature — and that includes you and me.

Living in Morse through all kinds of stormy weather (I love metaphors) was bittersweet. I count my lucky stars for the friends I came to meet and love and know so well — I have sweet remembrances of hearing a rooster in the mornings, frogs croaking in the creek, watching storms come in over the rolling hills. I loved playing with my children in nature … we discovered it’s heights. It was a beautiful land, a sanctuary of sorts. I met wonderful people who lived there and those who passed through, I tasted some of the small town culture I had been dreaming of, I learned more about human nature — and myself. I secretly wished the that the General Store was a really real store that sold bread and milk and eggs. I moved in June, at the end of the school year. There are some things I’ve really missed.

I hope to let you know more about the highlights that happen in my life and introduce you to some of my most favorite people in this world as I continue my writings. Sometimes I write entire postings and then ‘unpublish’ them from this site. So if you thought you saw something here the day before and it’s gone now, you’re not having a case of dementia. It’s just me sharing my view and respecting the fact that my children may read my blog one day. If you’re a late night reader you may learn more about me. As Mark Twain observed,

“Most of us are only afforded free expression from the grave. What a sad shame.”

If you’ve read this page completely, you’ve spent five minutes reading about forty five years of my life. And for everything you think you may know about me, I’ve only told you about a few of the experiences I’ve had in my life — hopefully you’ll find a few of the common threads that connect us as humans living a life filled with mystery and puzzles. What I’ve learned so far is there really are no mistakes and there really is no shame in the truth. Seek the truth, enjoy the journey, live life fully each and everyday. There may not be another day quite like it.

Dawn O’Brien, mother of four, professional student of life

© 2007-2009 Sage Publishing Co. LLC

Meet Banksy, an artist in the UK who is one of my favorites. You can google his name and find lots to feast on. The title of this” “The Fall of Man.”