I. I’ll be Journal Jamming today at 12 p.m. EST. I’m really looking forward to it, because these journaling sessions stretch me and take me places I would never go on my own. If you’re into it, you can get the link to today’s live by joining me in The Wilderhood. It’s free and amazing and you get Journal52, links to live Journal Jams, and journal jam replays + other stuff I do.
II. Yesterday was *amazing*. I spent three hours cleaning out the corner of chaos and now I’m down to one box of books and one box of junk to sort through before I can declare myself *completely unpacked*. I have two cube bookshelves and an accent table to build before I can do that, though, so I think that covers my quarantine plans for the weekend. Once everything is officially out of boxes, I’m going to go through my stuff with a fine-tooth comb, pare everything down and organize it so that I know exactly where everything is. I’m kind of excited about it because I really didn’t think I was going to have the bandwidth for this kind of thing, but here I am. Making and slaying lists.
I’ll take it.
III. I’ve turned a corner. There are only about a dozen tabs open in the browser that is my brain. I am not walking around holding my guts in. Yesterday, I sluiced off the year leading up to Equinox in a salt and scent infused tub. By candlelight. In complete silence. I put fresh sheets on the bed. I dusted off the altar and lit incense and tended to something more than just a begrudging attempt to keep my body and soul together so I can see how *waves at all of this* ends. I ordered all the things I like to eat on the fly to ensure that I do, indeed, eat. Baguette and brie and olives and salad greens. Cheese and crackers. Eggs and bacon. Slabs of meat. Easy and tempting.
IV. I’m thinking about how tea and empathy used to be a thing and now everyone just wants to coach one another out of feeling how we feel. I don’t know if that’s just an online thing or if that is also happening at kitchen tables. I don’t know. I know that if someone tries to coach me or applies ‘look on the bright side’ to my situation, or if they tell me snap out of it before I’m ready or if they tell me not to ‘talk like that’ or ‘think that way’, it gets my back up. Way up. Like, look. The only way to the other side of whatever this is is THROUGH it and if you can’t sit with me while I’m doing that, I don’t know what to tell you. When did we forget how to commiserate? When did ‘commiserate’ become a dirty word?
V. I’m putting your name in a honey jar.
VI. This song on repeat, because reason.
VII. Thinking about how trauma impacts our ability to be present. Yesterday, while doing laundry, I misplaced my keys FOUR TIMES. I almost flooded the bathroom because I forgot I was running a bath. I left a half a bag of ice on the counter to thaw while I was in a live call with art witches. Then, I knocked a beverage I forgot I’d put on the end table over all over my remote controls. Tossed the remote controls, which were dripping with beverage ONTO THE CLEAN BEDDING while I was trying to clean it all up. Tripped and slammed myself into the wall while I was running to get paper towels.
Embodiment is a thing. Grounding is a thing. Coming back into the body is hard at the best of times, but in times like these being disembodied can feel safer. Note to self: it’s not. It’s how people break their necks and get eaten by their pets.
Come back to center.
VIII. I’m thinking 2021 will be The Year Of Mary. I’ve wanted to do an art journaling class dedicated to exploring the poetry of Mary Oliver for years now, and I think I might be ready. I was musing on it in the tub last night. Mary, my matron saint of being present, of being gentle, of loving the world as it is, of loving myself as I am. Mary, who helps me enchant the ordinary. Mary, who I miss like summer.
I’ll keep you posted. (click to get notified)
IX. This song, too, because I’m holding space for all my parts, including the frustrating ones that can’t seem to let you go just yet, goddammit.