Not going back.
Not moving forward. Frozen.
Hopelessly. Once
upon a time, Nine had a steady guest list.
Now it’s just a Chrysler Sebring and the
occasional explorer.
Tag: reflection
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.
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.
- so selfish!