O there is so much to hold
I’ve been crying again. So much that my days feel flipped inside out and instead of noting time by cries, I’m noticing the periods in which I’m not crying. My nose is stuffy and my head hurts. My heart hurts too.
Through the tears I’m trying to remind myself that to cry is to be affected. To be affected is to be moved. To be moved, and to move others, is what life is all about, from my point of view. I almost said that’s what it is to be human, but I don’t think so. I know animals and plants move one another too, in quiet and loud ways, and that feels good to remember right now.
Been thinking about movement lately. I’m starting to get into classical music for the first time in my life and I’m noticing each burst of song is also called a movement. A rush of energy and then a rest. I’m trying to let myself rest.
I recently learned about jjjjjerome ellis’ work on disfluency in their piece The Clearing. I’m too tired to get into how gorgeous and generous of a concept that is right now, but it’s been keeping me company while my disabilities have been disabling me. Been keeping me company as I try to be gentle towards myself and my bodymind.
It’s 4:40am now. I’ve been awake for an hour. I’ve been crying for the better part of an hour. But I did some writing to sort out my head in this time, and I’m writing this now, and soon I’m gonna share it because life is hard so why not reach out despite/because of that hardness.
If you’re also having a rough go I’m sorry. I don’t know you but I love you. Hope you can feel that. Hope it is felt.
(The title is a quote from The Lumberjack’s Dove by Gennarose Nethercott)