NOTE: This post is part curated from my archives (the Bed Head Diaries), and part present day.
The world is hugely heavy right now, and my life is hugely heavy.
A purse dump of happenings:
I am in the middle of a unexpected move, which is a positive change, (I have a view that isn’t my neighbours doing the naked dash and a dishwasher and a gorgeous walk in shower, and my rent went up but only by about $50 a week), but it’s a change that came at crunch time for several projects I’m working on. This means I am a frazzled mess. Like, seriously frazzled. Grateful for my friends who show up big time and put up with the ‘I’m going to stick a fork in your face’ look that takes over my usually pleasant features while I’m a frazzled mess. And,
I had to put my lovely dog, Sasha, down at the end of May, which broke my heart and broke the dam that held back some long unresolved grief. And,
I am supposed to be going on vacation on from the 13th of June to the 17th of June, and this move, and all the work that is due has to be completed before I leave. And,
Anthony Bourdain died. I can’t even talk about it without crying. You have no idea what he means to me, what role he’s played in my spiritual lineage. I am devastated. And this triggered some more long unresolved grief. And,
My relationship with my ex has shifted from every Friday on my couch to I only ever see him when necessary. We are distant with one another. We are civil, but not warm. We are, finally, exes, and it feels fucking awful and I do not want this even though it’s what’s good for both of us at this time. And,
I have a huge tax bill about to come due, and it is very huge. Did I mention huge? It’s huge. And,
Other stuff I can’t talk about because discretion and not airing other people’s bad behaviour out on my laundry line. And,
The world. This whole fucking world. This scary, enormous fucking heavy fucking world.
This is me today.
I am trying for soft. I am trying for willing to be open to the possibility that everything is falling apart so better things can come together. I am trying for gentle, with myself, with you…
I am luggage under my eyes. I am so stressed, I can *literally* barely focus my eyes, which will *not stop twitching*. I am procrastitweeting and procrastiworking and procrastidoodling and procrastipanicking.
I am spent, but still pushing. I am my shadow written all over my face. I am ‘woe’ and ‘why me’ and #firstworldproblems and whine and wine.
I am also premenstrual, and I have been eating utter crap, and I am retaining water, and my eyes keep leaking without notice.
I am inconsolable, and walking around holding my guts in, and wondering what the point is. I am worst case scenarios. I am unable to recognize my own face in the mirror (who is this haggard looking person?) I am worn. the fuck. out. I am ready for a change, and yet terrified of what change will bring.
I am terrified. I am lonely. I am struggling. I am striving, but definitely not, at this particular moment in time, thriving.
Maybe you are some of the above, too, or all of the above or some combination of some of the above + stuff I can’t even imagine. Or maybe you’re just fine. (Could you send me some of that? With some dark chocolate and a Valium? Thank you.)
Wherever you’re at, I offer you this:
We’re going to be okay. I believe it even when I don’t believe it. I believe it because the story isn’t over yet. There is still story left in the story. We’re just in a really shitty part of the book. Let’s keep reading, okay? Take my hand. Hold on tight. Flip the page.
We’re going to be okay.
This version of the Bed Head Diaries, originally filmed in 2016, felt appropriate to share right now. In it, I talk about ‘your piece of the work’ (and mine) and explore the idea of ‘going dark’ as a form of self-care. I also pull tarot for my peeps this week, and we talk about the 8 of cups.
To sum up:
“Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.” – The Talmud
Hold my hand. We’ve got this. We’re going to be okay.