I. September is my birthday month (the actual date is the 30th) and I aim to celebrate. I don’t know what that will look like from day to day but yesterday it looked like heating up leftovers and ignoring the disaster that is my kitchen. I watched two episodes of The Circus, two episodes of The National, and then rolled myself in my blankets and went to sleep to the sound of the rain pummelling my skylight. Hello, 52, I am almost in you. Are you ready for me? I’m ready for you. 

II. September 2020 – September 2021 will be a hermit year for me in the realm of sexual/romantic attachment because I have a lot of healing to do in that realm around the kinds of attachments I find myself in. I will be nurturing friendships, fostering reciprocal energy exchanges, eliminating transactional connections, having corrective experiences wherever possible so I can shed the old stories about being ‘too much’, not ultimately mattering, and not being worthy of being chosen. Those stories have to go.

III. I have finished month-end and I am less omgdoomy, but I am still not caught up with the year’s collabs, so I have miles to go before I sleep. It’s okay, though. Busy is good as long as I’m making space for lazing about in my underwear on the divan with the dogs eating ice cream and ignoring my phone.

IV. I painted this for Moonshine’s monthly themed painting and I want to redo it on canvas so I can hang it on my wall.

Every year, I do one just like this with the falling leaves and something that expresses the beauty of the way trees know how to let go. If you want to do this painting with me, you can join me on Patreon at the $20 level where you will be treated like royalty and get all the things.

V. The magic of the ebbing year. Take all of this with you, if you please. All of it. Take it and transform it and I’ll do what I can to rise. 

VI. It is very hard not to think of the last 18 months of my life as a monumental fucking waste of time, and I resent that, like hella lots, but I know that as the anger eases and makes way for grace I will be better able to glean the wisdom, the lessons, the gifts, and I will cherish them. I’m not saying I will ever be ‘grateful’, but I know how to make gold from the lead of my own lived experience, and that is what I plan to do.

What you do with your lived experience is none of my business anymore, but I wish you the gold of it, the healing from it, too. 

VII. Today’s birth month celebrations will include NÜTRL Vodka Soda – Grapefruit flavour – over ice. Leftover Greek salad. A long bath. A new series. I’m going to unwrap a pack of three XL Moleskine Cahier notebooks and start a new journal entitled The Year Of The Hermit. I’m going to unsubscribe from all the Twin Flame bullshit I’ve been reading because it *legitimately makes me crazy*. I’m going to order You Are Not Too Much by Jeanette Lablanc. It’s temporarily out of stock, but I bet it will be restocked soon since it’s flying off the shelves. I’m going to continue to ignore the disaster that is my kitchen, studio, and laundry pile. I’m going to cuddle my dogs. I’m going to talk to my herb babies. I’m going to burn nag champa and paint my toes gold.

VIII. Love and anger are not mutually exclusive. Love *requires* of us that we own our own and let those we love own theirs. Love is not a warm fuzzy feeling you get to have whenever you feel like making time for it. Love is a goddamned initiation. I’m in the trenches over here, and that’s okay because I love myself enough to get in there and do what is required of me to be completely self-possessed.

IX. Self-loyalty. Self-forgiveness. Self-soothing.

X. I choose me. 

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