Thursday, April 27, 2006

Shudder

I figure this is as good a place as any to see if I can figure out why I feel sad today. Or anyway, to recognize that I do. Crankiness throughout the morning, midday and evening lead to a somber walk home from non-class tonight. I have felt in a bit of a multi-faceted funk the last few days - happy enough on surface, but quiet, guts in a rumble and skin feisty. Just when I was ready to blame the storms of last week or the food poisoning of earlier this week, I am left with shell-less self and trying to actually get down to be with the sadness instead of blaming something else (or myself).

Tonight I thought I wanted to write poetry from National Geographics, one of my comfort activities that actually leads to good work quite often. Instead, I entered some recent work (I have been doing this much more frequently and much faster than I used to since my bag got stolen a couple of months ago), and so, the "ring poem" appears on the entry before this one. It turned out that is what I needed, after all. I feel more equalized, though my chest is still tight and my sadness feels wily.

When I'm here I can't tell if I need things that are easy or harder. If I need comfort or a bit more of a challenge. I have been opting more for nice-ness, for compassion (birdfarm and I finally figured out the other day that we both now know that compassion is a real, actual thing. Not an absence of hatred (of self or other) but a presence. Tangible, breathable presence. Right now, I think I'm likely feeling it's absence.

There have been many rough things happening in friend's lives this week, but mine remains calm. Tonight, noting my mood, Erika thought perhaps I have stretched myself too far being a support to others. Perhaps, more selfishly, I just dread a torrent for myself. Or maybe I'm just tired. Just tired. It happens. It doesn't really matter why. A small glass of wine, some Compass Rose stories by Ursula K LeGuin, and 9 hours of sleep will help. A hot bath, too. Self care and presence. Some days will take this fodder and see it as manna from heaven. Some days will shit all over it. Doesn't matter. Best I can do is to care for myself and others gently, regardless of environment.

No cathartic cry writing this, which is honestly what I sort of hoped for. Ah well.

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