I want to crawl back into bed and stay there forever.
today it all feels like too much.
the emails and the calls and things that I should be doing, this is all swirling.
If I could knit together the pieces as I knit the wristwarmers.
If I could cook together the pieces as I cook the soup.
If I could clean the insides as I wash the dishes.
Last night I drank wine and tried on fancy dresses. I felt invincible – the women were there to tell me I looked fabulous.
Somehow the magic is gone and today I’m not sure about any of it.
It happens so fast.
The dark nights are here.
Starting now – it’s only 4:30 in the afternoon and the sun is behind the hills. I am very aware of the cracks in the windows and the places where the cold gets in.
and I read articles saying that we are going down, and that Americans want change but are addicts to the way things are and I agree. I know exactly how hard it is to step away from what is hurting you. I know exactly how hard it is to choose yoga over a cigarette. To choose going for a walk over playing on the computer. I know exactly how hard it is to be the sort of person that I want to be. And even harder still when everyone around me is telling me that if I drink this beer I will be stronger, healthier and more loved. They feed off our self-doubt. The economy requires it.
But I’m not buying.
Today, I’m making soup from organic veggies bought at my local co-op and grown by me and my father. I’m cooking millet that we grew and threshed all by ourselves. I’m knitting by the fire.
Sometimes, I’m crying too.