365 v.34 (091-105)
Gosh, imagine if I was as on top of updating my blog as I was napping.
091/365
Anxiety meds and daytime reading naps with Hiro. I was so panicked on this day. I journaled. I wept. I know I’ve been in a rough place with my focus when it takes me months to finish a book. I often read a few at once, but it’s been so difficult to get even the simplest of things done. I finally finished this book and I have several more to work through. Clinging to these tiny sparks of inspiration.
092/365
I bought a new mattress for the first time in my life during this pandemic. When I was younger, all I had was the twin mattress from my childhood. I used to have such bad sleep paralysis in that bed and it followed me wherever I lived. I carried it and its box spring all by myself up the narrow staircase in my first apartment on my own. It was so, so heavy. I did it all alone, scraped my hands until they bled. I didn’t even have a bed frame; I left it in that crumbling house with holes in the walls and ceilings. “Amy can take care of herself.” I couldn’t afford anything on my own for a long, long time. I was just paying for what I could and what I needed to. Whatever it took to get me to the next day. People I called friends and partners used to make fun of me for it, for my tiny old twin. I always felt so ashamed when they did it, frail little me having a box spring and a mattress on the floor. I shouldn’t have, but I did. My new mattress is so comfortable and big, big enough for my husband and my dog and I to cozy up together. I didn’t realize how long I carried this pain about that bed with me until I was up at 3am crying about it the other day. Scraping out the dirt.
093/365
I need to revisit things to dislodge them. I should be spared these thoughts, I say to myself. But that’s never how it works for me. The way out is through. I’m just tired. To be better and fuller and kinder to myself, I have to pause and sit with what was. I do it too often and I’m trying to improve on that. It’s hard to be present in a sick world. Rage simmers in my belly until I’m spent; I journal, I move, I collapse. Minute-to-minute, figuring out what I need at that precise time. Every day feels like an uncanny valley repeat of the last and yet they all call for a different set of tools. And to be coming around the bend, autumn beginning, winter fast on its heels… and so much is the same. How do I fend off nihilism or misanthropy?
094/365
Mike knows when I need to be led into tenderness. The wordless ways. He took me to a sunflower field and I felt so much lighter. I had never been to one before. A new goal for wherever our forever home ends up: a sunflower patch. Or field. Whichever we can swing. I smiled so much. The bees were cute. I inhaled, I exhaled, it felt like moving in the right direction again.
095/365
Quiet.
096/365
I just love him.
097/365
I want to fall asleep on a bed of moss. We’re going into the wilderness soon, so maybe I will.
098/365
What’s it like to start a family on a whim, without cobwebs to clear?
099/365
Shadow bird for my shadow self. Grackles speak their truth so effortlessly and loudly. Iridescent feathers like an oil slick and those piercing bright eyes. Loudly loudly loudly.
100/365
Aside from some finishing decoration touches, we finally managed to get our bathroom remodel done. Totoro says wash your hands.
101/365
I’m a clinical over-packer. It’s a manifestation of my anxiety and some rough memories, all mingled with the fact I just enjoy having options. To squish my ridiculous over-packing into more reasonable over-packing, I make a giant mess of clothes and wean myself down. It looks horrifying, but it helps me visualize a lot better. The worst part is when Hiro jumps on the pile to emotionally manipulate me, though. It works. I cried a little.
102/365
Bathroom tile. Travel jitters. I’m ready to be in some big nature, but I’m also just so fucking spent.
103/365
To the mountains, to the mountains, to the mountains.
104/365
This day, and this beauty, all for you on your birthday. Warm and golden, just like the energy you carry so effortlessly. If I really think about it, I’m shocked to have met you at just the right axis tilt in my life, on the margins of deep transformation. It took so much time and it continues to take even more. I really treasure spending that time with you, around you, and loved by you.
105/365
This was also from Mike’s birthday. The sun broke through the clouds, inviting a rainbow, and illuminated the vivid colors of Lake McDonald on this hazy cusp of winter. I gasped. It’s so healing for my spirit to be in nature (especially what I like to call “big nature”) and it truly humbles me. What a tender privilege. I am a temporary guest in the vast timeline of this earth-- a blink of energy, a tiny little thing grateful to stand in awe of Her. She does this even when we aren’t there to see.