not-quite Journaling, 73
Screaming doesn’t seem to
help much,
so I shall
harvest myself
a soothing.
9/22/2024: I’m not dead. I
figured I should put that out there right away. I haven’t been feeling awesome--physically
or emotionally--but I’m getting better. I lost several friends, to a
preventable accident, in the last few weeks. The grief hasn’t been easy on my
flesh or bones or spirit. I needed a break… I’ve spent a lot of time crying (all
right, screaming rage-filled tears), reading old favorites, watching my
plants grow, letting my Piano Man comfort me, smiling at messages from many of
you (thank you!), and straight out roaring with laughter at increasingly
outrageous memes from Rommy (humor--particularly dark humor--is one of my
favorite medicines, and mi querida amiga knows that).
Today, I chose to celebrate the Autumnal Equinox by doing
some harvesting and delighting in the gifts my wee garden has produced this
season. I pulled the sweet potatoes out of the soil with my bare hands--the
dirt felt warm and alive, and I bet the potatoes will taste just as
life-giving. The tomatoes have been sweet, juicy, and plentiful. The passion
fruit needs more time (we can relate, can’t we?).
I’ll spend the next few days catching up. I hope life is
being good to you. I hope the world isn’t causing you much pain. I
hope society’s current turmoil isn’t clobbering your nerves. I hope you are as
well as is humanly possible. I hope… for us all.
on days marred with loss,
I’ll let autumn rain cleanse pain
of flesh and spirit
– for
Poets and Storytellers United (Friday Writings #146: Substitutions)
