Comments Posted By Julie Jordan Scott
Displaying 1 To 30 Of 46 Comments
OH MY. PURPOSE. My keyboard froze and then went silent. Purpose. A Means, A way. A mission. A context. A container.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 04.01.2011 @ 10:33 am
It was on a whim that I decided to go. I really wanted a quiet evening in, but I was glad she decided to invite me. I have meant to see her, hang out with her since her suicide attempt as I know she needs friends and hell, I could always use a few more. I think. Anyway ~ I write into this moment before I need to log out.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 01.14.2011 @ 4:34 pm
Wake up, Wake up. Wake up.
I feel restless just reading those words. Judged, less than. I am awake, I want to shout, but it is like in that gelatinous dream state when your mouth can’t move and the words get stuck in your throat. Leave me alone, you shout. Inside. Silent. Seething.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 01.12.2011 @ 2:55 pm
They want me to write of ragged again. Like raggedy ann, who doesn’t look ragged at all to me, she is far too neat and tidy, no dust or damage or drudgery in her pudgy red shoe feet. I believe she has red shoes, doesn’t she? Ragged has stuffing pouring out of the heel and a hand, covered with dog bites or cat scratches. That is ragged. Like me.
First try went like this:
I feel ragged today. This describes me. Tattered, shorn, not any exact nameable shape. Not even patchable. I don’t feel patchable at all. I feel tired and limp and hanging off the side of an old laundry basket. Not able to be tamed by convention. I write ragged. I sing ragged, I read ragged. I bug ragged. I seek ragged. I am ok with ragged.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 01.10.2011 @ 1:54 pm
I need support. oftentimes more than I get.
I try to be independent. I am, primarily independent but if I would be truly honest, that feminine form of mutual, collaborative interdependency is what really turns me on. Shared leadership rather than one-leader. Strengths leading the leadership and weaknesses being loved into being ok rather than being mortal enemies.
Support is something I give more than receive.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 01.09.2011 @ 1:10 pm
It would be obvious to many that I am miserable in this relationship, in that relationship and I am great or somewhat great in living the moment with my children. And what is the most important? Loving my kids or having a man who compliments me, you know, like a left hand compliments a right hand. I wish I had that, but I would rather have a couple or three great kids, like I have who won’t leave me for a newer model.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 12.25.2010 @ 2:33 pm
It is metal. It is like the place in Northern California, Copperopolis. Near where I want to take Samuel, exploring Samuel Clemens. Conversations with Danvir. Showing up, performing. Being present to all we are, all we hope to be, where we are going. Discovery, exploration, a filled belly. Exercise. Love? Love. Love. I want to go there. I want to be there. Listen.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 11.30.2010 @ 7:33 am
Hope flakes floats moves
people are flakes when they don’t show up
flakes are small sheddings
little bits and pieces jots and tittles
they are dirty aren’t they
except for soap and snow
I wonder what it is people think
when they hear the word “flakes?”
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 11.23.2010 @ 7:50 am
I’m thinking abaout retiring. Using up what’s left and spend time tracing ivy wih my eyes, leaving the to-do list behind and just settling into a garden chair, allowing the breeze to nestle in, behind my ears. Knowing sunrise will happen, sunset will happen, and life will happen whether I push this way or that way or not any way at all.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 11.15.2010 @ 1:38 pm
My reader will say to me, “Love you, Julie!” want to be near you, Julie – and now this crazy task bar is saying “Time’s up?” what sort of insanity is that? So I outsmart the site and set my timer on my phone.
Reader, what do you want me to write about?
Reader, what is important to you?
Reader, what is your favorite color?
Reader, what makes you cry?
Reader, what gives you hope?
Reader, what helps you get through the day?
Reader, what do you want from life?
Reader, what do you want from me?
Reader, what do you want to change?
Reader, what frightens you?
Reader, what don’t you understand?
Reader, what do you want to understand?
Reader, what do you need to hear?
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 11.08.2010 @ 7:11 am
Family feud. People, bickering. No solutions. Pain. Absence. Missed possibilities. Both sided, no faults just being.
Attraction. Denial of attraction. Energy mangled and pushed. Uncomfortable. Missing. Empty. Hope? Lost. Vibrancy? Escaped. Lost, lost, lost. Fighting battles unwinnable.
Mrs. Morrissey, yelling at next door neighbors. The first time I saw an adult screaming at someone, I think. We didn’t yell or feud or emote much in my house. Did we care? Did we cover our caring in lunches with too much food or stuffing what we wanted to say or tears that stayed in our throats and well off our faces, thank you very much?
Cheery whistling rather than feuding, perhaps? I get lost in this word, with its surflike feudal overlord sounds.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 11.04.2010 @ 8:29 am
Stage: I love it. Theater. I love it. I was gone for it for so long yet now, I have been back again for seven years and I wonder if my time there is done, if this phase has served my destiny and I am meant to opt out? I am auditioning Saturday. It will be my last for a while. Perhaps I ought to put a time frame on NOT auditioning….
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 11.02.2010 @ 9:06 am
I remember when I had fangs. It was humiliating. I was embarrassed by how I looked, blushed when Katherine’s classmates snickered and elbowed. I don’t know how I survived it… my mantra. My love for me, even when I had fangs.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 10.31.2010 @ 9:26 pm
I don’t want to sail away from this, from here. Or do I?
The “I don’t want to sail away” were the first words my fingers chose, without thinking. But I thought that was part of the point. Weird. I will continue to sit and write and think.
I surprised me.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 10.30.2010 @ 8:26 am
What have I missed by being lost to the questions as they arrived? What did I miss by not being willing to let myself sit with the question? Questions work so much more effectively when we become intimate with them, rather than rush through their nuances without noticing. Questions are like your best friend: they take time to get to know, they are filled with surprises and light. They want what is best for you and they want to experience it alongside you.
Questions are not meant to be fumbled around or passed or kept separate. They are meant to be held, cuddled, shared deeply. They want to be written into both comedies and tragedies. They want to flow through the blood and be given through the breath.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 10.29.2010 @ 7:30 am
I have a calling to teach. I have a calling to reach into the hearts of others and pull stuff out, to take stuff from my heart and offer it up without concern for pain or hording. I love to tell stories and hear stories and notice things that others leave unwitnessed. I love
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 09.07.2010 @ 7:52 am
I wish I knew each cousin more. I don’t know any of them, really, except for Darcy. I had hoped it would be different for my children, but if anything, it is worse. They have zero contact and this makes me sad. Can I change it? I suppose. It is a choice about energy. It should be worth it.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 09.06.2010 @ 8:46 am
I am overjoyed at the reality of my program, And Now You Write and Mission Completion coming to life this morning. I feel like I am giving birth and THAT is overjoyment induction. It is a pleasant compliment to the “ohmigawsh, my child is leaving me” feeling with Kat’s flight leaving tomorrow. Simply silly, me. I wasn’t and am not overjoyed at Cameron’s negative yes morose demeanor. Brings zero joy. Want to end it. He carried on so much last night, I despised it and him and myself. Not overjoyed. Tired.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 08.27.2010 @ 7:55 am
Under. Up. Undulate. Apostrophe interjects… possession.
Under neath each man’s basic skin tautly held is
the need or desire to possess, to hold tight and
not let go and I wonder, sometimes… how I got
myself underneath that thumbprint in the first place. Under.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 08.21.2010 @ 9:02 am
I stood my ground with the folks from Special Ed and Samuel has gotten, more or less, what he needed. They can’t provide the most appropriate for him because they don’t have it but the more I know them, the more I know we are primarily all humans doing what we need to do. I would like to know all of them more, and for them to know all of me more because this would help our students, our children, the future.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 08.20.2010 @ 8:34 am
It is probable I will cry today. Local, recent and palpable fact of current life. Too much stuff taking place for me to keep a chin unwobbly. Children, my beloveds, moving up and over crests and I can’t predict the other side or begin to make it safe. Why can’t I hold an umbrella of safety over the heads of my children? Why do I feel so much more, it always seem, than other more rational parents?
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 08.13.2010 @ 8:10 am
They are like a sponge, little ones. They take it all in and then run down the street with it sharing, “Do you know what I know? May I share the good news of what I know with you?” They literally drip with the excess, what is left over – mostly her own enthusiasm. “I love life!” the little ones exude. They didn’t know they had the choice to hate everything. Yet.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 08.12.2010 @ 9:45 am
Take two. I wrote a poem about kettle.
A rant. Two e’s, the only vowel.
Its constant whistle-screach hurts
my ears. I wish it would just shut up
because pain is pain is my normal way
of being and if it doesn’t stop I am
going to throw that damn whistling kettle
across the room and its boiling water
will most certainly be destructive. Kettle.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 08.11.2010 @ 8:47 am
Mission: Something to achieve and a way to achieve it. I will do this mission statement in this way. Sometimes missions get tangled up in politics. I prefer missions that are personal, soulful, reflective and do-able. The tangibility factor is important. I was into mission statements when I first started my business, not surprising since I was coming out of bureaucracy.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 08.07.2010 @ 9:02 am
“None. I will have none of this,” she said, pushing the plate away.
It was filled with hatred, competitiveness, a measuring stick and a ruler, to swat with.
Give me compassion, creativity, openness, a unique texture, flavor and rhythm and arms for hugging. That’s what I want. Not one of the none, thank you and no thank you.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 08.03.2010 @ 9:04 am
How fascinating to find NUN staring back at me.
This week, St. Ignacious haunted me. Wanted me to come out, said, “Remember Teresa of Avila, remember retreats, remember going within and not needing to be out and about in the world so densely. Find your own world, densely, be where it is most important not just because you feel an outward duty. Be a Nun at your sanctuary.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 08.02.2010 @ 9:27 am
I have never been the one who is high strung. I leave that for others, although I could easily and sometimes happily step into that role. “There is no space for me to be high strung!” I lament. “Just for once I want to be the one tugging at my throat, gnashing my teeth, stomping my feet…” instead I am the one breathing, the one praying, the one chiming in with “what are the facts” and feeling better more quickly which I suppose isn’t all that bad, afterall.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 07.27.2010 @ 7:32 am
I am pleased to report I am on a streak of writing – a writing streak, which doesn’t mean writing naked, it means how many days in a row I have slapped by butt in the chair and written until I was done, until I got to the 800 word suggested number and it takes me usually about 15 minutes or so which is why I don’t get my hesitation today. Weird. I am pleased.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 07.15.2010 @ 8:11 am
Rusty. His name was Rusty the Bear and he had russet colored skin. He wasn’t your ordinary bear. He wasn’t silly like Yogi or somber like Smokey, he had a style that eclipsed those sorts of bears. He was a contemplative bear, a bear who worked for bear equality – who had compassion for the bears who were different. His name was Rusty Bear.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 07.09.2010 @ 7:38 am
Back To Stats Page
In order. I remember my friend, Suzanne, and her theme order and beauty. I like order, I do. I alphabetize and categorize, but from the space which surrounds me now, you would never know. Reminds me. Declutter. Declutter, Julie. get some order in this room, separate from the chaos whihc has appeared. Order.
» Posted By Julie Jordan Scott On 07.08.2010 @ 7:21 am