I’ve been feeling BIG MOODS this week (let’s nickname them boods). BIG WEIRD. BIG SAD.
You know the feeling when your eyes are little canoes trying to hold together the wood from floodgates of water? Those have been my eyes the past few weeks, it feels like there are tears ready to flow at all times, and they become rivers from everything. It feels like all of my demons are gathered in my kitchen and playing uno.
It’s a global crisis, it’s a full moon, it’s a strange and uncertain time. There’s a lot of grief right now, and as I talk to more and more loved ones, it feels like so many of us are moving through deep, grief-filled changes.
There is so much being revealed, both for ourselves and for our world, evils and shadows of this country that have long existed once continually becoming clear.
I’ve been reflecting on the lessons of portals. Portals are entrances or doorways to other worlds. I typically go on walks through my neighborhood around dusk and I always see the sun halo’d through swarths of trees, looking like an opening to somewhere else.
As I hold my hand up to the sun, making a small telescope with my fingers, I think about what world I want to exist beyond the portal. I think about this current crisis as a portal. What new world do we want to create, for ourselves, for our world?
I think about the responsibility I carry in both articulating the worlds I dream of, and making it a choice to cross the portal, in making the worlds I dream of a reality. I think of the collective nature of portals, how they ask us to bring all parts of ourselves, how we need to dream of collective futures, together.
These are my personal journal reflections turned affirmations. Hold onto what speaks to you, leave what doesn’t. May these little reflections be sparks to seek out portals in your day. To hold yourself a little more gently as you travel through your own unknowns.
I’ve been feeling BIG MOODS this week (let’s nickname them boods). BIG WEIRD. BIG SAD.
You know the feeling when your eyes are little canoes trying to hold together the wood from floodgates of water? Those have been my eyes the past few weeks, it feels like there are tears ready to flow at all times, and they become rivers from everything. It feels like all of my demons are gathered in my kitchen and playing uno.
It’s a global crisis, it’s a full moon, it’s a strange and uncertain time. There’s a lot of grief right now, and as I talk to more and more loved ones, it feels like so many of us are moving through deep, grief-filled changes.
There is so much being revealed, both for ourselves and for our world, evils and shadows of this country that have long existed once continually becoming clear.
I’ve been reflecting on the lessons of portals. Portals are entrances or doorways to other worlds. I typically go on walks through my neighborhood around dusk and I always see the sun halo’d through swarths of trees, looking like an opening to somewhere else.
As I hold my hand up to the sun, making a small telescope with my fingers, I think about what world I want to exist beyond the portal. I think about this current crisis as a portal. What new world do we want to create, for ourselves, for our world?
I think about the responsibility I carry in both articulating the worlds I dream of, and making it a choice to cross the portal, in making the worlds I dream of a reality. I think of the collective nature of portals, how they ask us to bring all parts of ourselves, how we need to dream of collective futures, together.
These are my personal journal reflections turned affirmations. Hold onto what speaks to you, leave what doesn’t. May these little reflections be sparks to seek out portals in your day. To hold yourself a little more gently as you travel through your own unknowns.