So many pieces.  Sharp edges.  So much beyond repair.  So much that doesn’t function at all.  A few breathtakingly, achingly beautiful pieces – maybe too few, yes… but, beautiful all the same – truly beautiful.  Those pieces DO make a difference.





Paint me in the colours of music: flat, sharp, subtle and bold.
Keys of black and white tell a story that is anything – everything – but.
Nothing so tidy, nothing so clear-cut…
something so imperfect and painful becomes a melody.
And chaos is just the prelude to the exquisite, the graceful madness.
A tale of sadness. Wednesday’s child.
It’s my story. It’s my portrait.
These are my colours.

© Autumn Dawn Leader 2014

Of the Thriving and the Awkward

It’s awesome when I see someone find their niche and, not only survive but, really thrive. It’s awesome, and it’s…

I don’t have a word.  I’m always so happy when I see it happen.  It’s beautiful.  But, it’s never happened to me.  And, I know it’s in the makeup of the person, because all situations and people vary.

I have a friend who has recently seperated from her husband and taken a new direction in her life, and everything just fits. She’s happy, she’s popular, she’s thriving.  It’s great to see.  She really deserves this happiness (her husband was a nob).  Instead of being overwhelmed by single motherhood and a new job and everything she’s had to face and take on board… she’s vibrant and happy with a new set of friends and a brimming social life.

I can sometimes get along…cope.  Those times are rare, but they do happen. However, that’s as good as it ever gets for me.  No fitting, and certainly no thriving.


Even when I am coping (in other words, not a totally nonfunctioning basket case) I am almost always uncomfortable, out there in the world outside my door. With the exception of when I am performing music to an appreciative audience.  I am painfully awkward otherwise and just, generally, unsuccessful.  Unsuccessful at life. Akward might be the adjective that describes me best.

Maybe that’s par for the course for someone with Borderline Personality Disorder.  After nearly 40 years, I should be used to it by now.  I should just get on with the business of existing as best I can and be grateful (which I am) for a husband that supports and looks after me, helping me to get through the days when breathing and being awake is acutely painful – and, believe me, the pain is real.  I should focus on the positive:  those precious music making/sharing moments where I feel ok out there in a world I don’t fit into.

I’m trying.  I honestly hope I am not here for another 40 years; I do not want to live in this body that long.  But, I am really trying to nix the negativity and build up some positivity.  Meditation helps.   It does help, is helping… it helps knowing that whether I ever feel ok breathing, existing, here, in life, I do have value; I do contribute something.

All this being said, when I see my friend (or anyone else) landing on their feet and veritably spilling over with the true enjoyment of living, there are those times I long to feel that love of life thing… and the not feeling it, along with all the akwardness (at best) and severe pain (at worst) that I do feel, can be overwhelmingly sad.

Again, bummer.

So, anywho, in the spirit of contributing… here’s my latest meditation song.  Thank you for reading and listening. Om shanti.