One woman’s quest to make sense of a nonsensical world after losing her dream home and all her worldly possessions to a raging and sudden wildfire. Exploring the existence of God, our cultural discomfort with grief, what it means to be human as well as life in a 1967 Airstream trailer, Kristen Moeller shares her humanity, her spirit and her dark edge openly for herself as well as for the countless others who beg to be heard in their wild journey through this wacky world.
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As another wildfire rages out of control – WE reach out to YOU

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As another wildfire rages out of control near Fort Collins, my heart breaks for those who lost homes and particularly those who lost loved ones.  At 36,930 acres and zero percent containment, this fire is a nasty one.  An ‘act of God’ sparked this blaze in the form of a random lightning bolt.  Extreme dryness coupled with high winds is the perfect breeding ground for fire.  I didn’t sleep well, thoughts of these poor folks filling my mind, knowing some of what they are experiencing, only imagining more.  Tossing and turning throughout the night, I thought of what I want to say to them and those who love them.  I wish I could shield them from the inevitable roller coaster ride that results from life chewing us up and spitting us out.   Here is what I want to say: Read More

The Wisdom of Dr. Suess

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And when you’re in a Slump,

you’re not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98% and 1/4 guaranteed.)
From Oh, the Places You’ll Go
Ahhhhhh.  The timeless wisdom of Dr. Suess.  He continually reminds us – in the most friendly of ways – of the ups and downs of life.  We silly humans promptly forget and wonder why it isn’t roses all of the time.  What happened to the roses?  Weren’t we guaranteed roses?  Where are those stinkin’ roses!  We want our money back!!!
Life is what it is, and for sure, it ain’t always roses.  Read More

I know I am not alone cause Michael Franti says so

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I have found God and his name is Michael Franti.  I have found heaven and it is called Red Rocks.  I speak the truth, my people.  Let it be known.  Shout it from the mountaintops.   The lost have been found.  In the form of a 6’6” dreadlocked artist, Franti reminds us simultaneously of the darkness in the world, the depth of human emotions, and the glory of true joy.  He seems to hold all spaces equally without judgment. There is room for the love-struck teenybopper, the 89-year-old fan, the first date, the wheelchair bound, the pot smoking hippies culture par duex and more.  We are all welcome.  The bad day, good day, high on life or in the trenches, we stood shoulder to shoulder through the 3-hour show and danced our butts off, following his decree to raise our hands, jump, and make some noise.  Smiles glued to faces, knowing looks as we passed each other in the crowded aisles, joy was found at Red Rocks last night.  Franti sang simple odes of understanding the human condition:

And when the rain falls down
You know the flowers are gonna bloom
And when the hard times come
You know the teacher’s in the room
And when the sun comes up
You know that I’ll be there for you
Don’t let it go, oh no
He spoke directly to those going through struggles and pleaded with us to not give up.  I think we all agreed last night.  Red Rocks is a magical place.  My first experience there was in the mid 80’s as a college student.  It’s a blur for sure as drinking and drugging were my companions at any concert but the magical venue left it’s mark.  If you have never been to a concert there, you must at least do it once in your lifetime.  Musicians love it.  The natural rock formations create a perfect amplification of sound.  Many claim it as their favorite venue.  For most Coloradans, and those lucky enough to visit our fine state, it is definitely our favorite.  Read More

Just who is this God dude?

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Well… If I had written yesterday, I would have begun by crying out, “God hates me!”  Now I know that isn’t completely true.  And, I know everything could be a helluva lot worse.  And, I don’t even know for sure there is a God to hate me afterall.  Is anyone really up there watching over us?  Does he or she reside within us?  Does anything make any sense?  Are my prayers heard?  Are my curses ignored?  Will I burn in hell – or are we all living in hell right now?  All these questions and more would have tumbled from my fingers onto the keyboard…
After my debut performance as a stand-up comic on Tuesday night and the resulting freedom and exaltation that came from that, Wednesday was wonderful.  I felt different as I drove to my weekly appointment with my therapist.  The colors seemed brighter along the road – and don’t just tell me it’s cause they were brighter… My soul felt lighter and I thought I might have turned a corner.  Proud of my progress through this trauma, my therapist acknowledged my inner resources and ability to rely on my many years of personal growth tools.  I felt it too.  Ahhhh.  Life was shifting.  Read More

Getting my funny on

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Last night I leapt into the unknown. In the form of a stand-up comedy routine, 8 other brave women and I took to the stage to test our mettle.  In a nutshell, we rocked it.  The crowd was rooting for us from the beginning.  The majority of the packed house (about 100 strong) were friends and supporters with a few complete strangers sprinkled in.  It was a night to remember – and already I want to do it again.  For us brave souls who leapt, the last two weeks have had their ups and downs to say the least.  We came together for the first time on May 20th for a 4-hour workshop lead by the brilliant Kristina Hall.  A veteran comic with over 25 years experience both live and on TV, Kristina created a flagship program to help women step through fears, find our own unique expression and get our funny on.  The level of power and accomplishment in the room did not lesson our shared anxiety.  Would we be funny, would we remember, what if we froze, what if no one laughed and you could hear crickets??? Read More

This being human is a guest house… and totally freaked out.

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This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture
Still treat each guest honorable,
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
– Rumi
Maybe no morning should begin without Rumi.  If we could live by these words, we certainly would be a bit more peaceful.  I know I would.  “Every morning a new arrival…” ah Rumi, you speak to my heart and soul.  Today is the day I take to the stage with 8 other women to get my funny on.  I have felt so far from funny recently.  Insane, yes.  Funny, not so much.  I question why I am doing it, yet I question most things that stretch and challenge me.  Read More

All choked up

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I was generator challenged this morning.  Attempting to conserve power by starting our small generator, my brain found it’s well worn groove and executed the same maneuver 3 separate times even walking away between each try so as not to “flood” the poor machine.  Finally, dejected, I called David and asked why the generator might choose today of all days to cease functioning.  His usual reply, “user error, perhaps?”  Convinced I followed the proper protocol, this did not seem likely.  Having no choice but to try another approach, I switched the choke button to the opposite position and it started right up.  Only thing is, I continued to let it run on choke…   At this point in time, I have started this generator on a multitude of occasions.  My brain doesn’t feel especially foggy this morning – not any foggier than usual I should say.  But I now have scrambled eggs for brains when I attempt to think about where the choke button should be… Read More

Everything will be all right in the end…

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Everything will be all right in the end… if it’s not all right then it’s not the end. 
– Sonny from the movie “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel”
“Delightful” is what one of the film reviews said, and I concur.  Many moons ago, when I first saw the preview with the above line, I added it to my very short “must see” list.  A lovely romp through India with a stellar cast of veteran actors, it didn’t disappoint.  Illuminating the “Golden Years” and the potential for a last great hurrah (or series of hurrah’s) is another reminder that it aint over til the fat lady sings.  These fine people thwarted their predictable path into frailty and leapt into the absolute unknown of a life in India.  Unlike so many movies these days, the dialogue languorously explored themes we all deal with which aren’t often reflected in the media.  The real deal.  Obviously, I am a fan of the real deal.
This film reminds me that this current iteration won’t be the last adventure of our lives.  There will be many many more.  Some chosen, others not so much.  It’s packed with life lessons and reminders of what really matters.  Stuff such as love, trust, hope, faith – and yes – that it can all end in a nano-second.  In a society where we have marginalized the elderly, it’s nice to be taught.  Yet, as my mom has always says, you feel like the same person inside, it’s the image in the mirror that keeps changing.  Read More

Standing inside the fire sometimes gets hot…

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Is that a dead mouse?  Is it the septic?  Is it a dog fart?  Is it a gas leak?  Whhhhhaaaaatttt is it?  These thought occupy my early waking mind.  Not a pleasant way to return to consciousness.  Life in a trailer – even as sweet a trailer as Flame is not without its challenges.  Upon early morning investigation, we still don’t know.  We have eliminated dog fart and gas leak.  The dogs did fart but now they are outside and the smell remains.  The holding tank shouldn’t be full – yet seems to be burping.  A dead mouse, well that’s instant karma in our war against rodents.  Did we wound one with our modern trap that took revenge by limping away and dying in some crevice?  We don’t know.

A little chilly still to sit outside and write, so I breathe through my mouth as I type and hope my essential oil diffuser will pour enough lavender into the air supply to save my soul.  You know how odor sneaks in anyway?  It’s doing that now.  It occurs as a small threat to our peace of mind.  David has removed himself by taking the garbage and recycling to the “curb” and I attempt to hold my breath.  Could be a rough day in Flame.  Have I mentioned that life is not dull?  It’s not.  Really, it never has been, but it certainly isn’t lately.  Regardless of the stank, mornings are still my best time.  Later in the day, my fatigue sets in and my mood is often erratic.  Yesterday I likened it to a chronic and very bad case of PMS.  David now says he understands what PMS feels like, and ladies, I believe he does.  Thin-skinned, thrown by the slightest curve ball, excessively sensitive, unpredictably dark – and very very tired, these are my constant companions.  After our systems being on high-rev for so long, it’s no wonder we are feeling the stress hangover.  I pray for physical resilience and for that which makes us stronger not to kill us later.  Read More