Not feeling all that heroic the last few days. So many feelings. I am going to try to write more personally these days even though the mix of responses is a mix of responses: hate mail vs. patronizing mail vs. bizarre mail vs mail that makes me feel understood.
I am going to try anyway — for the ones who get what I am doing and are nurtured by it. For the ones who feel less alone when I write.
So I’m still thinking about stories, the story of my Exodus from the Big City and my current rural sojourn. How January was Act One. February, Act Two. March Act Three and still Unknown. It’s February 29th. And the creative projects I’m excited about – my book of poems, the radio show, lists of plans for the blog and business once I get settled.
But today’s Instagram Tarot poem was the voice of the Angel of Death. Yeah. Like that.
It’s Eclipse Season. Heavy. No sun here. Bleak grey sky. And it’s Monday. And yet. New Moons are New Moons. You want a tiny pinprick of hope? It’s here; it’s coming. Tiny pinprick, seed of seeds. March 8th is the Solar Eclipse. Make a wish. Analyze your chart. Find the silver line. It’s there. No, it’s gold. It’s forever.
If you feel sad or confused or overwhelmed, slow down and then slow down some more.
What’s your story these days?