Mother’s Day 2018, I am in bed in my pajamas, drinking a semi-cooled cup of coffee from a llama mug, playing solitaire, completely alone in my house. My husband and toddler went to church, without me. And, right after they left (because I am very holy and sanctified) I turned on the new Ali Wong special and laughed so hard that I sneezed 4 times in a row and then cried. I did have a fleeting thought questioning if I should watch the comedy special or maybe do something- I don’t know- more reflective. But, here’s the thing. I’ve been doing a lot of work with the Enneagram lately, and as a part of this work I signed up to get daily reminders to check my inner thoughts/fears/motivations. So I get daily emails that remind me to let go of the need to prove my “worthiness” to others. Today I woke up with a scratchy throat and achy body. Is this seasonal allergies or the beginning of a cold? I’m not sure. Also, yesterday we had a lot of people over. Plus, work has been a major crazy tr
A few weeks ago the darkness took over the sky. Now, anytime after 3pm, you can feel the downward pull of gravity telling you to sink into your bones. The same week that the sky became dark in Massachusetts, the temperatures dropped and the dread of winter became a talking point in day-to-day conversation. People here have not recovered from the winter of 2015 when snow piled 9 feet high in the span of 6 weeks. There is a tension in their voice when they talk about shoveling and being stuck indoors. I love the fall. I love the change of the sky to clear blue when the air becomes dry. I love the colors of the leaves and the quiet rain. But, this fall has not been restful but restless for me. Under the trees laden with wet leaves I have not found peace and quiet, but a silent roar of anger. It is too soon. Not enough. I am not ready. ***** I can feel the vertigo of my sadness. Do not let anyone tell you that grief is not a physical process. Our bodies will tell us