Tag: empathy

i don’t do resolutions

Ok this may be too much but: I replied to a witchy friend earlier today that while I’m not one for resolutions or proclamations or whatever but I do think there is going to be some serious magic this year. How that manifests is anyone’s guess. We may all die! Or maybe the last few years have pushed all to some sort of collective spiritual cataclysm that poops out something more cooperative and nurturing and sustainable.

Or it may just be same shit, different year!

I’m with you. Like, I’m feeling hopeful and cautiously optimistic this year, which is rarity for someone like me who errs on the side of caution at all times. It’s time to let some magic, sunshine, and rainbows into our lives.

Fuck yeah! Like also the outcome of the magic doesn’t negate that the magic happened. It doesn’t take away the sunshine & rainbows that we experience in the process. So, yes, let’s be a little cautiously optimistic (totally feel you). But ALSO fully allowing ourselves to be ecstatic and immersed in the process.

Sigmar Polke, Untitled, 2003
Sigmar Polke, Untitled, 2003

just the other day I had the joy of experiencing this divination. perhaps some sort of sign. but, again, i don’t believe in such things.

The 4 Non Blondes’ hit song “What’s Up?”

i learned this past week that it takes seven days of shouting words of encouragement, direction, witty banter to lose my voice. i am loud. i am large. for seven days i was given an opportunity to hold space for participants of a large event sometimes only seconds at a time, up to twice a day. “if this isn’t ministry work i don’t know what is,” i messaged a friend who shares a similar calling.

debriefing the experience with a mentor earlier today she said something along the lines of “the more we share love and gratitude with others, the more we then embody it ourselves.” this was the validation i needed. i am exhausted. i am spent. i am addict – i want to do it again. holding space gets me high.

something that has become a common narrative for me over the past couple of months: when I have self-acceptance around being awkward & queer it creates a space where another can be more vulnerable & authentic. this takes some energy on my part but the return is often — not always! — of benefit to me1. i get to share the joy that said authenticity brings and i get to be a part of the good vibes. even tears are good vibes. there were lots of tears last week.

sometimes people just need a “good morning, sunshine.” at maximum volume at 7am. or perhaps a “welcome back to camp! you did it!” later in the early evening. my self-appointed job was to provide a small space (physical? emotional? metaphysical?) for the people to feel seen, loved, accepted.

  1. so selfish!

Poet

april is national poetry month. each morning i receive the Poem-a-Day. i don’t always read them. i may have shared one or two. i came back to this place and noticed that the last few posts were lyrics, verse. time to get back to writing.

in high school i fancied myself a slam poet — it was on trend at the time. there was a movie. slam poetry was accessible to a teenager growing up in the city at a particularly diverse school. it was necessary for a teenager with tension and oppression and privilege at a particularly diverse school. i was invited to read at various events, always standing out but also fitting in. we were all angry. we were all connected. we were all alone. we spoke the same love language.

this is one of the many places i learned to read a room. read each person, as if i’d known them for years. read them cover to cover. understand what they needed. understand where we connected; observe even the faintest touch: translucent linens, hanging out to dry on a hazy, sunny morning. just a whisper and i could find the passable bridge.

this has come in handy. this has crippled me. too much all at once separates soul from body from mind from present from past. the future happens, directionless. it has come in handy: promotions, friends, safety, efficient code switches.

poetry. i had to write a poem today for work. the “spring cleaning” newsletter. i searched for “cleanse poems” and “poem purification” and “cleansing quotes” and the algorithm served were verse and rants from holistic healers peddling new life through multi-day programs and righteous theists speaking of rebirth. are these people different? some say not really.

positively spring
winds rush through my soul lifting
my spirit. relief!