One of my favorite things about writing here is that no one really knows this blog exists. It lends it the flavor of a personal diary. It feels quiet and safe. And that - at least in this moment in time - that feels very welcome. It allows me to practice writing again after so long away. It allows me to tune in with my heart and soul with zero concerns about what the reaction might be.
With all the noise and unhinged world events, I want to create a space that feels safe and supportive to everyone. So I’ll be quietly practicing here until it feels time to get bigger.
Here’s how my quiet corner of the world feels today:
It feels soft, yet expansive. California sun is streaming in the windows (I’m not complaining about the fact that it feels like spring, but it does worry me just a hair) and my nervous system feels relaxed because I’ve been supporting it like nobody’s business. We’re all walking around in a trauma echo chamber, so supporting your body and boundaries becomes a must instead of a maybe.
I’m drinking my winter support tea in front of the fire. Not to brag, but it seems to be doing its job. I’m still wearing real clothes, but my cozy slippers are on and I’m huddled under my noise-canceling headphones even though I’m the only one in the house except for the cats.
So much feels like it’s ready to shift* and I’m doing my utmost to help it shift for the better.
*Though I would like it noted that when I said I wanted a timeline shift, I didn’t mean back to T*ump.
How am I doing that, you might ask. I SHALL TELL YOU. By staying in the god zone (isn’t that a great phrase?), ruthlessly curating my thoughts and beliefs, breathing through any stickiness or fear that pops up in my chest, and planning as many lovely real world activities like rollerskating and time with family and friends as I can.
Take care of yourselves, my friends. It’s the best place to start when it feels like the world is in turmoil.