Work In Progress

I am a work in progress.

If there is one thing that I am certain of, it is that FACT.


Like a painting that started as a blank canvas,

And then life happened.

Paint smattered and brushed across my surface as each experience accumulates.

Sometimes like the work of Picasso or Van Gogh, and more often like the finger paintings of a three year old.



I am a work in progress

I can promise you that I’m going to fuck up, fail, and fall.

I can PROMISE you that.

I will do that way more than I am ever going to cross the finish line first…let alone at all.
I am a work in progress.

I have no idea what I’m doing.

Half the time I’m writing these words, is because I’m trying to give MY SELF a pep talk.

I’m trying to find my power, my center. 

I have no fucking clue what I’m doing. 


Seriously, don’t even finish reading this, don’t take any of my writing as advice, it’s literally hogwash….okay, it’s metaphorically hogwash… 

I’m just trying to sort through my bullshit, the best I know how.


There’s all this mumbo jumbo (that’s right, I said it) about personal development, and manifestation, awakenings, consciousness, shadow work, ego deaths, inner work….

Facing your fears, slaying your inner demons, building awareness and consciousness, conscious parenting, the power of NOW!

Triggers! Deal with those. Deal with all your bullshit that was planted in your head when you were a kid! Or in adolescence, or in adulthood. But mostly when you were a kid. 

Trauma…sort that out, don’t transfer it to your kids!


Also, while you live your best life as an awakened being, don’t yell at your kids. Don’t spank them. Don’t get defensive, be present. Don’t get jealous. Don’t cry. Don’t be sarcastic or resentful. 

Be horny and fuck your husband through all of that too. 

Heal your core wounds.

Re-evaluate your core beliefs. 

Don’t forget to meditate!




And guess what? 

Nobody taught me. 

“Rub some dirt on it” was considered “inner work” in my household. 

I feel like I’m studying for a test, and I wasn’t given the textbook. 

“Hey! Go be great at this thing called life, parenthood, and relating. Here’s the entrance exam. There’s approximately 1,483,536 questions, each multiple choice A-Z…..”

“Ummmmmm…..okay, here it goes….,” said me as I looked at my test booklet, and realize they never even gave me a bloody pencil….

“I guess I’ll just manifest a pencil to fill in the bubbles on this fucker…” 

And at the end of it all, you find out the answer for every question was Z. All of the above. 




I am a work in progress.

Nobody taught me.

Nobody taught my mom, or her mom before her.

Nobody taught my dad, or his dad before him. 

I don’t have a tribe around me helping me do all the things that I’m supposed to apparently be able to do all by myself.


I suck at so many things. I am misguided. I am egotistical. I am confused and desperate. 

I am lonely, and judgmental. I am defensive and critical. 

AND I am human. 

I am not perfect. I am completely and totally fallible. 

AND I am still deserved of love. 

Even when I don’t think I am. Even when I shun myself.


I am doing the best I can.

We are all just doing the best we can. 

And that’s enough. 

We are all falling down, fucking up, and failing miserably, 

And as long as we get up.

That’s enough. 

And you are enough.

And you deserve love in ALL of those moments. 


At least that’s why I try to believe and tell myself…….iiiiiiit’s…….a work in progress! Haha…

Raise your hands, if you’re a work in progress too!