Dangerous Compassions



I always see roses as about my mom.  Their beautiful struggle.  Especially red ones, as that was her favorite color, when I was young.  These roses are simple like wild ones, not the multiple layers of petals, but small and one layer.

I was lying in bed on my way to sleep, writing a txt to a friend in my head.  Then I got scared, thinking about my mom and death, and it was Too Vivid.

I had a problem earlier yesterday also, where I was overwhelmed by my own imagination.  Had to stop what I was doing because my imagination was pushing me to a weird place I didn’t want to go.  I was hurting from my own mind.


We saw the lizard twice yesterday.  In the morning, we came back inside after some nature moments, and the lizard was by Ming’s sock on the floor.  It scampered away and hid under the bed.

Later, movement caught my eye; I saw it head toward the kitchen.  I followed it and opened the door, hoping to herd it outside.  But it got scared and went behind the cabinets.

It’s about eight inches long, including tail?  Does it like living here?  The ones we see outside are way smaller.  Maybe this is a cush lizard life.

Personally, I’d prefer no bonus houseguests, but Ming seems to like having a temporary pet.  I said something about poop, but maybe lizards don’t poop much.

I asked Ming to protect me while I was sleeping–he said yes.  That’s a given.  I didn’t want a lizard climbing on me nonconsensually.


Something else to say is struggling inside me.  Being away from home three nights, I get some perspective I don’t have at home.

“At home, you’re always doing work,” he said.

“No, I don’t do almost any work,” I said.

“You hold the community together,” he said.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

He explained the emotional labor I do.  I realized that yes, my smiles and concern for the guys in the back house especially do affect the tone, a lot.

If I feel grumpy, I’m not going to be rude to those elders.  I’m still going to smile and ask how they are.  I think they like having me around. I can’t ignore their health and well-being.

So maybe Ming is right.  I’m tending to their needs, whenever I go outside.  When I come here, I relax in a different way.

I also tend to the plants’ needs a little bit, the houseguest a tiny bit, txting them every day.  The cats’ needs–their intercatual dramas, hangout spots, how hot they are, how much energy they have.

I hope I can remember this, that Ming needs travel to reset his ocd, and I need it too.



The wind was weird.  I think the river was trying to keep us cool, but hot gusts were coming from another place.  It was before sunrise and already getting hot!

“Raise your arms.  Smile like you’re trying to be nice to a fairy,” I told Ming.  I tried to get different smiles from him by asking to imagine different mythical creatures.

Then a roadrunner emerged from the forest, like one of DH Lawrence’s gods.

This is what I believe: That I am I. That my soul is a dark forest. That my known self will never be more than a little clearing in the forest. That gods, strange gods, come forth from the forest into the clearing of my known self, and then go back. That I must have the courage to let them come and go. That I will never let mankind put anything over me, but that I will try always to recognize and submit to the gods in me and the gods in other men and women. There is my creed.  — DH Lawrence

I watched it flick its tail and walk around.  They’re so big and exciting.  I couldn’t help but exclaim.

Ming said, “You should chase it.”

I said, “What do I look like?  A coyote?”

He said, “Beep beep!”

I corrected him.  “Meep meep,” I said.  Then I felt like a jerk.  Do I really need to assert my superior cartoon knowledge?  It didn’t hurt him–it didn’t really hurt anyone.

to be kind to myself

I made a list of ways to be kind to myself.  My favorite is probably “Err on the side of pleasure.”


I like being open to new needs also, and smiling at responsibilities.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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