The past couple weeks have been a LOT. There’s been loss and grief and shock and perspective shifts. There’ve been so many adjustments, life almost feels fluid (which is pretty beautiful), and now it’s the end of May.
The phrase “Are you okay?” always throws me off. I feel defensive and defective and completely unable to answer it in an authentic way that doesn’t freak people out.
I don’t mean to freak people out. I really believe that I am doing mostly okay even though nothing feels okay. So many things are not okay. And I spend a LOT of my time and energy fighting to make things better.
Learning to use my rage as a tool rather than a self-destructive weapon. Channeling it into action to influence and change the things that are NOT inevitable. And then my doom? And I am learning to take my doom into the garden. Because yes, everything is ending and yet there are flowers and birds and music in the meantime.
I don’t fear my doom. It’s the darkness that feeds the light. The decaying husks that feed the soil. And the difference between a darkness that replenishes and a darkness that festers into rot is air. Just like we turn the compost, to keep it well, we must shift our selves so the darkness doesn’t linger. So it can restore us, rather than consume us.
Get some air y’all. And some light. It’s overcast here but the birds are singing.
You are loved, by me and others. Glooping along in the cosmic blob.
Pretty Good Ugly 