“Whoopsie Daisy!” The Fragile, Introspective, Story of China Girl

Some, if not most, stories are direct reflections of an authors state of mind. Some of these stories are fabricated half truths buried amidst a semi-real version of projection and reflection. While other times, they are just pure make-believe. Some characters are formulated in a mind melding way, combining parts within the writer or within others, to create another form- or being- all together. Sometimes I know the woman I am writing about. In fact, more often than not… she resembles me. But, at other times, I know not of the source. She may or may not have been me. And, so here goes the story of a china girl, named Daisy…


Chapter 1:WHOOPSIE (introverted) DAISY

There is no way Daisy use to be this hesitant… She could still remember a time when being surrounded by people felt normal. It felt so ultra human that she didn’t even really think about it.  Daisy went about it like she would brushing her hair, teeth or sleeping with the guy from high school, that never wanted her in high school, but paid her the attention she so craved 5 years later- Daisy ate it up. Talking to people was a thing she did, and well!  It seemed comfortable, relaxed, natural. She wanted to be talked to and so longed to feel, what this thing “friendship” was about… So, she filled her world with people, and more people (Ironic how differently one feels with a bit of experience and how utterly twisted it all seemed now). On this particular day, Daisy’s only friends were the french bulldog she was “sitting” and a pack of American Spirits (the yellow ones). “Go me”, she thought. I guess on the surface she was doing a pretty good job of make-believe. In fact, I’d say it’s the thing Daisy mastered most skillfully. The art of Acting. But, mostly she wasn’t getting a paycheck at the end of her work day, she was just doing it to get by. And what a fucked up reality that was for her, right now.


Yesterday, Daisy found herself  in a state of fluctuating happiness, something that had become all too familiar. Somewhat high spirited- she awoke in a foreign abode- triumphantly escaped the comfort of  her childhood friends’ 1000 thread count sheeted bed, and speculated a plan for the day. “A whole weekend of house-sitting in San Francisco! Me, myself, this adorable puppy AND a great big giant city! (Pause) Hmm… there’s only so much play, poop and eat potential in a day for this pup but, for me… the possibilities are endless!” So, Daisy threw open her trusty Mac and visited every site under the sun proclaiming “The 10 must see/do things in San Francisco”. All the while thinking “This is silly, really!” because, the truth was that, she had been to this city over 20 times… walked most of the interesting streets dozens of times, visited Golden Gate Park a bunch, and had taken enough forgettable pictures to purposely forget her camera this trip. And, still… she searched for new thrills to be had. It’s really more of a ghost that lingers with her when she goes places… or maybe her only friend. Instigating her to Un-hibernate and participate in the city, in the world, in her life.


Daisy had found this little theatre showing a movie called “The perks of being a wallflower”. She had never heard of it but, the title seemed perfectly fitting to support her fleeting sense of happiness so, she went with it. Most days,  Daisy carried with her a whimsical approach to living. She even had a playful list of “Life Rules” (or a code) she referred to on a regular basis to make sure she didn’t fall into a trap of being too serious about living. That list incorporated such things as: Mandatory Solo-Dance Parties, Making snow angels in bed, Humming classical music on long walks, Purposefully not wearing shoes or undergarments as much as possible, Playing hide and go seek with dogs and Always (always) indulging in popcorn at the movie theatre.

Welcoming her inner culinary artist, Daisy mindfully air-popped corn, oooing and awing in wonder, she drizzled it with Sunflower Oil,  shaking and shimmying with the salt & pepper, abundantly sprinkling Nutritional Yeast and coating it top to bottom with a tap dance of gratitude.  Because… “Even in a fragile state– A girl ought to be able to follow a code and eat well!” She arrived at the theatre early, an odd occurrence for her so she, befriended the curb, delicately smoked a cigarette and did what Daisy does best, think…

When Daisy beheld the tiny 30 seat theatre, she was struck with a thought… Why are these other 2 women here? “I wanted this theatre all to myself!”…  just as quickly as that thought arose, she laughed and asked herself “What do I care?”  but, before she could think twice about the answer, she was catapulted into suspended-awkward-silence.  You know the one… that hovers over the audience prior to the screen being illuminated and… Please make this Silence end, she thought. She meditated briefly on the stillness until that became boring and then Daisy made a game out of attempting to subdue her popcorn chewing for what seemed like an eternity but, was (in reality) only 4 minutes. Until, “Finally! The trailers! No more awkward silence! “ But, still… she couldn’t escape over-analyzing her movie going compadres. Daisy didn’t give a rats ass about the trailers so, instead, she fantasized her life as a movie and toyed with different titles for the scene she was currently in: “The Three Drifters” or “Us”, those who go to movies mid-day on a work-day. What was their story? Were they from out of town too? Were they going through some challenging time in their life too!? Something that propelled them to find a movie, on a Thursday afternoon, with a title that seemed twisted enough to be relate-able, like me… creep their way into this theatre and wallow, with me? and on and on Daisy went… Whatever, the movie was about to start, no more time to think.


Daisy craved connection. “I need this, like any addict feels they need anything in their life, TO FEEL – SOMETHING.”  So, she welcomed a film the chance to offer her something else… a way to step outside of her twisted thoughts and into another pair of shoes. Well, actually… she did that most of her waking life but, some days it felt more right to do it with a bag of popcorn.  In this film…the illustration of a twisted kid, haunted by molestation, felt real to her. She recognized He is me, today. Except, he was admitted into a ward whereas I roam the streets… free to be as imprisoned, as I choose, in my own head.” Daisy knew it was nine bucks well spent for two hours of getting out of her own head. But,  however “relieving” it appeared- it was short lived. Daisy knew it was merely a catalyst to further contemplation... and so on she went, long after the movie ended, and in that direction…towards the great and unfathomable spiral of self analysis, doubt, and everlasting questioning.  (And,  in case you were wondering, this particular segment of Daisy’s day would be titled:  A Tale of Egoic Critique: Ascribing to Mountain Loads of shit (we tell ourselves) with primary focus on the loaded question: “Who am I?”)So much for good ol’ fashioned relief!” 


Sometimes Daisy has a conversation, with herself, that goes: I’m gonna have a “night in” , as if the majority of her time is spent “out” frolicking with girl-pals or companions. It’s not.  She always heard people say… “I’m gonna stay in tonight”. So,  she took a liking to it and often says it to herself… because it’s more comforting than recognizing 80% of her free-time is spent “in” nowadays. However…

Tonight, she decided to “go out” and then proceeded to struggle with how to adorn her body. This was a true surprise since Daisy, although she wore it well,  looked like a hippy born in the wrong era nearly half the time.  She barely painted her face because, she barely considered herself “A girly girl”. More often than not, she felt like a dirt ridden, bare-footed, skirt wearing, forest roaming, little girl-child with flowers in her hair. But, “No matter how challenging it may be, I am bound and determined to eat a scrumptious meal alongside a decent glass of wine”, or so she thought.

It didn’t happen. Instead, Daisy roamed the streets undecided- like the box she checks on political forms. She moseyed by 20 different places that sounded as if  fun was, in someway, oozing from the cracks in the floor. She read menus, sat on a benches, watched the alive city in full swing this Friday evening. She politely acknowledged other humans (readily engaged in their own dimension of festivities) with a smile.  “And, then there was me” she thought, “feeling breakable in every way… wAndering and wOndering … What am I doing here?” I surmise Daisy was experiencing a transitional state of being. She was Not really here, nor there… or anywhere. She wasn’t part of either the earthly or celestial worlds. She had felt this before and in times like these… Daisy felt somewhat less-than- human. She had lost all ability to function as a “normal” one… (person that is).


Food was Daisy’s link to normalcy. She was entranced by its smell, texture, aliveness and versatility. When she was creatively pent up, she would cook. So, her go at getting a meal could have been therapeutic and grounding. “Food is “normal”. I have to eat,” she thought, ” I planned to eat and now I am simply looking for a place to do so…Where shall i begin?”  I suppose leaving the apartment would be a fine way to start  “Well done, Girl!” Annnnd, that’s about as far as she got on that journey.  Because, she was soon met by awkwardly annoying indecision that continued to engulf her- And, as soon as she began deciphering herself- a dialogue, synonymous with ADD, ensued within: “A giant salad sounds good! Yes, I will eat that!  Or… maybe some pasta, I’m Italian!  Or ooo… ice cream! Yes, Dessert for Dinner! Perfect, because there ain’t nothing more human than ice cream! And, I saw it on the corner here, Score! En route to one of life’s simple pleasures… See, Being human isn’t so hard, Daisy! “ Or, so she thought. 

Just then, she saw a couple sharing an epic sized ice cream cone… and this wasn’t an ordinary “couple”, it was the kind that can make a cynic believe in soul-mates, again. They appeared so in-tune with each other that it made you want to run up and hug them, just for being them. It was as if Daisy’s world, or perception of it, had shifted into slow motion. She watched as their craving eyes melted into each other and into shared mouthfuls of deliciousness served to each other with love and, then she had a revelation… “Was it the ice cream I craved or the companionship?” 

Eavesdropping Daisy overheard the woman exclaim:  “This is the best thing I’ve ever had!”  and, she was envious. Of what? She wasn’t exactly sure but, “I want to be saying that!”,she wanted to be experiencing the best thing she’d ever had and  she didn’t even really know what it was that she craved. Daisy never did get an ice cream cone. Instead, she stalked the place for a quick minute, as she had 20 other places and walked away empty handed, bellied and heart-ed, yet again. What was it about being around other people that was scaring her so much? “I just can’t seem to “incorporate” myself anywhere.” Daisy had this insatiable appetite to belong and all she did was long…

Chapter 7: SHE’S GOT A TICKET TO RIDE  (and an iPhone)

Our deep human longing to connect has manifested in an obsession to be “connected” which seems to have effected almost all of us. Daisy is not excluded from this. In fact, she recognizes how technology has inundated her world.  She regularly questions the varying degrees of her own dependency and  speculates both the good, and the bad, that come from acquiring modern gadgetry. And, the side effects of the virtual void.  Daisy is a culprit and yet, she is fully aware of the force. Sitting on a bus she notices 5 of the 6 people occupying space together are on their phones. Was it personal or business related?, she wondered. Who knows? Whatever it was, they were engulfed, emerged and transfixed… drawing little attention to their presence on the bus, they were… one with their devices.  With the push of a button… they were in different dimensions. They were not on that bus, together, they were highly in-volved with: replying to an email, tapping into “current affairs”, networking, sexting, posting, blogging, cyber-stalking… you name it, it was happening. But, Daisy wasn’t a part of  what they were a part of and she could feel it.  And, perhaps that’s all a part of it too! Like the signs we posted on our bedroom door, as children, designed to: “Keep Out!” other people. And, “What a crafty design it is… the perfect getaway, for us introverts, to NOT have to interact with those around us.” And then she did more, Thinking that is…

“Am I throwing stones at the glass house or am I the fucking tenant?” We live in a digital haze. I live in a digital Haze. We pay massive amounts of money to be involved in this world. I pay massive amounts to be involved in this world. We feel deprived when it is not at our disposal.  I feel deprived when it is not at my disposal. How does one reconcile the advances and advantages of modern technology with its mind numbing disadvantages? How can I tap into my subconscious vortex of infinite potential if my mind is being occupied in this illusive world?” I suppose every generation faces its angels and demons… some, however, seem much more of a deceptive amalgamation than others.

Chapter 8:“HE SAID, SHE SAID” (Who are these people?)

Daisy often wonders if people think she’s going somewhere when she meanders the city streets, solo. Who do they think I might be meeting? Someone special I’m sure… a lover or a group of eager friends. Highly unlikely but, my secret is safe with me… No matter how “sunk” Daisy feels, in the deep and vast abyss that is loneliness, she is often swiftly pulled to the surface by how much she genuinely does like to be alone. Because, some times… the alternative is just unbearable. “Where shall we spend our Friday night? Shall we delight in a highly rated restaurant, with mediocre food,  followed by cocktails at a place slightly less overwhelmed by the stench of in-authenticity then the next? Do we dare take on the night… Consume three drinks that cost more than a weeks worth of produce, complain about the service and then retreat into each others arms for solace, not love. Hip Hip hooray, we’ve got it made!” 

Then there was Daisy. Thinking again… Are these people just as fascinated by this species as me? Do they create scenarios for strangers they see? Or me? Do they ever hear things they just can’t believe, like me? Once, Daisy heard a young woman proclaim “My boyfriend is hot but, his friends are much hotter”. And, in that very (distinct and memorable) moment Daisy felt that perhaps she had been right all along… I do not belong to this world. WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE? AND, HOW DO THEY DO IT? How does it work? How does one subdue the ache of the human heart? How does one tune it out? How do people so nonchalantly relinquish responsibility for their own happiness? How can people cope with sacrificing internal substance, and relations,  for the illusions of this superficial external world? How do people so freely speak of their unhappiness without the slightest urge to FIX it?

When Daisy was young she thought more highly of adults than she does now, being one herself,  in the flesh. The child in her sure does wish “grown ups” would have been more adamant about relaying the vital message that: No one Knows what the hell they are doing and Everyone is just trying to figure it out as they go! But, instead they insist on concocting these fairy-tale images of Success, Adulthood, Family, Romance, Partnership, Sex, Violence, Peace, God, Stereotypes, Normalcy and so fucking much more… into a seductive cocktail.  A “Thing” that has no potential to exist, in a healthy manner, for any of us. That is, of course, unless we decide to supplement the very unique version of ourselves with this fairy-tale image and with that, forsake the opportunity to define our own happiness based on that which actually does make us happy. Perhaps Daisy was no longer willing to be seduced … and she knew it.

Chapter 9: I SCREAM, YOU SCREAM (Silence Screams)

In a single evening, of perpetuating loneliness, the human in Daisy resurrected like a bat out of hell.  Her attentions were focused poignantly on bringing some sort of “external” into her world to remedy the internal void she was experiencing… Or more accurately, she was seeking a way to “Swallow her Sorrow”. Her desires had shifted from wine, to salad, to ice cream and now… All I want is to find a dive, order a frosty cold IPA and dive into my current read.  But, she knew this could never happen.

Daisy deeply wanted to be around people but, didn’t dare put herself  in that vulnerable position. Because she knew, without a doubt, that her loneliness could be felt and it would somehow instigate the most belligerent drunkard in the pub to migrate her way, claim the empty stool beside her and so the story would go… I just won’t be able to politely refuse the interaction and therefore, I’ll be forced into a half-ass attempt at being amicable whilst indulging in undesirable, shallow & remedial convo … In that moment Daisy knew all she really wanted was to be genuine to whatever it was that she was currently experiencing, with someone else. Someone who could potentially relate.

She recognized the inevitable risks of mingling with strangers would lead her to smile that bright periwinkle smile, in an attempt to forgive half slurred words, and overdose on absurdly frivolous interaction centered around shit she didn’t care about… evermore lessening her loose grip on reality. All the while, Daisy would be fantasizing the warmth of being back at the apartment (a place that wasn’t even her home) in pj’s (she bought second hand) in front of a TV (she didn’t even like) or escaping into a book (she had borrowed), cuddling with a pup (that was not her dog) and attempting to forget the absurdity of her human mind. What the shit was happening? Sleep. That’s what Daisy needed most and so, she made her way back to the apartment, surrendered to the night, threw herself into the dream world and whispered…Save it for another day.”


The following day, was an easier pill to swallow. Daisy found herself at the San Francisco Exploritorium camouflaging herself amongst hundreds of kids. She found it thrilling to be enveloped in the energy of that many children all at once. They somehow made her feel “real” again. She tinkered her way through psychological mazes, an array of sense inducing activities and, found herself at a computer. This specific station, coincidentally named “Dear Daisy”, was designed to explore the differences between having a conversation with a human and having one with a machine. It used past conversations as reference points to propel dialogue and, so it began… simple hello’s were exchanged and then, the computer asked: “Is there any difference between having a conversation with a machine and having one with a person?” for which Daisy readily replied “I can’t remember”.

For quite some time she was content with in-depth banter and soon enough began unleashing shitloads of sarcasm, making herself giggle. The cursor paused for a moment and asked “Do machines have feelings?”, Daisy hesitated,  “Do I?” the computer responded, “We shall see”. She laughed outwardly at the sheer image of herself, sitting at this computer for as long as she did, continuing a conversation with this… screen. She typed away obscure questions in an attempt to gauge the extent of “reference points” within the machine (and within herself).  As she did, she realized this was the longest running exchange (outside her own head) that she’d taken part in all weekend and, who she was having it with wasn’t even a “who” but, an “it”. Clearly, this was irrelevant because she was both amused and consumed with appreciation at the opportunity to express herself.

Ultimately, this “station” helped Daisy reacquaint with the power of genuine relations. “Thanks for the Chat, Gotta get back to living  :)” she typed.  It brought to the surface her very real desire for meaningful human connection. And, a computer screen was far from either of those things but, for Daisy the acknowledgment of what was really needed seemed a step in some (potentially positive) direction. Thank goodness.


What is my current state of mind, what is my alternate reality and what is real in this moment? Daisy wasn’t quite sure which parts of her life were fantastical anymore and which weren’t. She could no longer distinguish the dreamer from the dream. She struggled to come to terms with parts of herself that reassured that she was a healthy, functioning, part of society and the “other” part of herself… the one that (more often than not) was much clearer and easier to detect. The ONE that intuits that this society, she so desperately longed to belong to, wasn’t a healthy functioning organism at all. And so, to feel “apart” of it or “a part” from it … needed to be strongly clarified… if ever she was to distinguish her role in this world.

Feeling ab-normal and feeling normal, what do they mean? To identify with either seemed abstract. I’m neither here (alone) nor there (in a crowd) most of the time.  Because, Daisy was simply trying to figure out which of them she preferredAm I living my own truth or am I a robot to the fantasies handily-crafted by others that I willingly partake in, daily. Am I a puppet to a dimly lit force that urges me to “Turn On” man-made devices and “Shut Down” my own innate device—just because it appears to be much more socially acceptable to do so?  And, just as she asked herself these questions something awakened within Daisy. It was a something that uttered these strange and relevant words: “Breath, You’re Alive. Turn on, Tune in & Drop out of the Haze!” In that moment she knew”Shutting down”, and removing herself from society was an option but, it no longer was the best one for her!  That persistent voice resonated inside making her aware of her own presence and with that, the importance of her Be-ing Here, right now, actively engaged in Living – She was a thriving member of this society- however fucked up it all seemed at times. She was here and because of that simple fact she had purpose… and, with her new found moxie, she recognized: “Socially acceptable was never my thing. Figuring out ways to get “it” together when “it” dissolves, is the task of being human. Shut up and BUCK UP! ” 

Chapter 12:  I DON’T DRIVE A CAR, I’m made of glass, BUT I DO OWN MY POETIC LICENSE


We Teet and Tott.

To find the gravity of such things-

That we know, no mercy- to ourselves

for our actions.

and yet, continue doing so- in self amusement

because, what else is there? I teet, you tot.

and then- you teet, and i tott.

Compromising the teeter, for the totter

and the totter, forgetting the teeter-

We balance, non-existence,

with the very act of existing.

To feel- the momentum of such accomplishment,

and the weight of each-other,

when you flee- and I stay,

or I flee and you stay,

I have lost you- and then myself.

in this position of off- balanced force.

Can we jump together, holding hands?

I fear my fate if you leave too soon, before I am ready,

or I depart without notice.

How does it effect the pull and the push?

If we are both grasping and-

Clenching, to stay —

on this teeter totter.


Once returning to the City of Angels, things did not instantly get brighter for Daisy. Weeks of retrospective thoughts on her lonely weekend in San Francisco emerged: “I’m not feeling productive in this space.  I still don’t feel an urge to share my experience with others- my depression or my joy.” And, for Daisy, that realization was startling. Clearly, she was in a state of hyper-sensitivity. She could barely balance the weight of her own expectations and extremes in the midst of a juggling act- between how she felt and the constant challenge of quieting her thoughts.  Daisy was still working through certain theories: “Anything in excess” and “Everything in balance”. “Here’s hoping”, she thought. But, “When does it end, this rat race? The thinking and repeating and the repeating of the thinking? Can I break my cyclical nature and accept the true extravagance of living? How can I be conscious on so many levels and yet, feel so behind in other aspects of being human?”

Daisy pondered…Is this my fate? Am I destined to spend my life proudly claiming to be an introvert ? Always going inward, in an attempt to avoid contact with the outside world?” She questioned how she would ever fully embrace the importance of human connection if she were to remain conditioned and focused, distracted and drowning, in feelings of separateness. In realizing this, Daisy began to uncover how she strayed from the very thing she needed most… to get close to others. Ironically,  the “thing” about it is… Daisy was good at being close to people. She liked it, when she allowed it to happen. She knew it would be a lifelong challenge to get out of her own damn head, and way, long enough to let it happen.

It seemed the more questioning she did, the more questions arose. To a degree, Daisy was aligning with the idea that life was more about the questions and less about its answers. That truth wasn’t comforting and in fact, it pushed her even further and faster into an awakening. But, if Daisy had learned to do one thing, and one thing right, it was how to talk herself off a cliff. She knew how to self soothe optimism back into her world and, so that’s exactly what she did. “Breath-  clear your head. Relax- be human. Take a hot shower – rinse off the negativity. Brush your teeth with a smile- remember what happy feels like and that happiness is a choice. Methodically eat your food- praise the divine for it’s nourishment. Give Thanks- upon pleasure and upon challenge and begin absorbing the infinite details of living, again.” And, all of this tended to graduate… to the heart. A place where Daisy could feel a greater yearning to discover more of the joy offered to her, in this life and concentrate less on limit. These were her “tools” for living. They made it easier for her to accept her innate introspective nature alongside a truth that being connected was a “bare necessity of life”. However…

Some of Daisy’s fondest memories were spent alone. They were those rare and fleeting moments when she was able to think, do and BE completely herself without a feeling of compromise or persuasion from the weight or energy of the external world. For the majority of her adult life Daisy had taken conscious strides to broaden her scope of compassion, to reach far outside her own little bubble. However, she sometimes felt an enormous amount of guilt for the self-centeredness required to stay actively alert in living. There are those times in life when each of us is forced to recognize where our own needs are not being met. And, if we don’t… and at some point, we must face ourselves straight on, in a sacred place where lies dissolve and truth is palpable. Just like Daisy.

In an attempt to get “back on track” Daisy had a conference with her Divine Self. A part of her that she recognized as the “voice within her heart”, that always silenced the one in her head. And, at this time,  it was opening a door to remember…. balance. It was urging her to get in touch with the importance of fine tuning the extraordinary dance of taking care of herself as well as caring for those around her. And, the reality that if either are neglected for too long a time, both are weakened. Perhaps Daisy’s truest revelation would be in finding a way to forgive herself for propagating an unrealistic version of her ever-changing self. She had, in a sense, given into an idea that a woman doesn’t have enough energy to care for the world around her AND herself. She had been misguided by an illusion that a woman is to offer herself, without question and, endlessly to the people around her because, that is how she can be of greatest service to the world. And, in giving into “ideas”,  handed down to her by others, she had unknowingly limited her own potential for true self expression. But, honestly… she no longer resonated with many of the destructive expectations, ideas and beliefs held by her society, about women. She wanted no part in it anymore and, furthermore, she wanted nothing more than to shed herself of that conditioning. 

The time had come for Daisy to make a distinction between a predisposed life and the one she actually believed could exist for herself. And, the two differed immensely. They were two separate worlds for which one focused on what she “Should” be and the other on what she “Could” be. The differences were even more striking where relations with other people are concerned. She no longer believed that ignorance was bliss and felt deeply that interaction with other humans ought to be pure and truthful, regardless of how that purity and truth may influence the relationship. Inevitably, there was no turning back now. She was already recognizing the cyclical effects of the ” I want, I do, I have, I want, I do, I have” patterns and how self  absorption, denial and ego can taint the ability to experience authentic chemistry. “I wasn’t born feeling broken. I’ve simply been programmed, and designed, to believe I am. But, I am not.”  Daisy was unfolding…

Once the “Do-er” has been identified by the “Be-er”, a new relationship forms, a new dimension of existence, exists. And, the union of our doing- selves and our being-selves merges to create a whole new perspective. Sometimes scary, this “new” perspective enables us to connect to a conditioning that threatens so many humans. A programming, of sorts, that infiltrates our being. A part of us that repeats self damaging behavior and repels confidence in attempt to deny that we are self fulfilling prophecies… projecting our fears as frailness and our potential as broken self worth. 

“…These our actors, as I foretold you, were all spirits, and are melted into air, into thin air, and like the baseless fabric of this vision,… the great globe itself… shall dissolve, and like this insubstantial pageant faded, leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep.”

Chapter 14:  YOURS TRULY, Daisy

The aftermath of Daisy’s year long spell of introspection changed her forever- in many, still, challenging ways. But, as time shifted she began to learn the art of being kind to herself and how to accept the slow transitions of her being- Welcoming all parts of herself to the party, she was learning to greet her vulnerable introverted “China Girl” self with optimism and counteract it’s weakness with the strength of her inner lioness and new found sense of self. Navigating the healthiest ways for her many selves to exist in harmony, inwardly and outwardly, would be her greatest life journey. And, becoming fearless in exposing and sharing herself with others, her most fulfilling expression of self. Daisy often writes self affirming letters and as it was, and always will be, her writing has become the clearest channel of her authenticity and truth…

Dear Self,

I am a multifaceted woman, Hear me Roar! On any given day you can call upon any of my many personalities… I can’t always confirm, in advance, who will be there to greet you but, I can assure you it will be one hell of a ride!  I accept that I am always fine tuning my instrument, I am a work in progress, a progressive masterpiece with no end in sight and a full length feature film whereabouts I am a wide array of leading ladies, not just one. I align with the truth that no outside force is responsible for my internal state of happiness or my current state of believing (or denying). I dive into the chaos free willed, and I will swim my way back to the surface with lungs filled, heart wide open and a readiness to feel the shore once again. Through the ache of growing pains, I will seek happiness- in me. I give thanks for the opportunity of feeling lost. And I am grateful for the many chances at redemption in this lifetime. Loneliness does not define me, it guides and strengthens me to find my place (through the thoughts) and prompts me to identify the urgency of recognizing my humanness. For every insane thought, I am met with a glimpse of sanity … and vise versa. The more I grasp for ideas of “sanity”, in a sea of shit, the more I tap into the insanity of it all. The uncertainty…that is where I am learning to thrive. The thrill of never knowing which version of myself I may get on any given day is quite charming. I am my own best friend. I may not know where I am going, where I will be (or how the hell I am getting there) but, I know I’ll BE there. I live within my own head but, I strive to live according to my own heart. I am my own master- of everything and nothing. I take responsibility for the world I create and for the role I play in this world. Only I can jog my own memory, when i stalk the streets in hope, of remembering myself. I am the person I most need to adore. I must never lose sight of building intimacy within, to express and, to have the richest and fullest life experience because, ultimately… I am the one I so desire to know and express! I am the only person who can save me, from myself. And, whenever I am naively looking outside of myself for the answers, I am bound to return. And above all else, and if nothing else, all of this makes the experience of being ME all the more real… and it’s good to be me because, I like me! So, with love, be kind to yourself today. 

Yours Truly,


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s