A love letter?

I have been numbing myself with humanness.

A ridiculous statement, especially if you are not a person who explores realms and planes and outer space and inner space.

I’ve been doing SO good. I’ve - mostly - kept up with cleaning the house and rinsing the hippie diapers, tended to the animals and built the nicest chicken coop in all of Wyoming (maybe even the world), avoided screen time for the big soul in a tiny body, saved the old fruit by making bread and muffins, built the studio’s fall and winter programming, cared for the garden, learned the ins and outs of hydroponics, made friends with my neighbors…

and all of these are good things. I’m living the life I want to live. Maybe for the first time ever. Which is huge and has incredible exponential echoes ringing through space-time and I can feel it soothing and healing baby me, toddler me, kiddo me, teenage me, young adult me, now me, FUTURE me.

But when it comes to practice?

I’m struggling. And, presently, in the habit of finding any reason not to - I have to clear the tumbleweeds under the porch, I should build a swing for the chickens, is there a diaper that needs changing?

And I can’t, or won’t, take the time to consider why.

Sometimes I get caught up in the doing. It’s summer, it’s hot, and the vibration penetrates my field and I want to GO and DO, and I think I just let that sit in the reason block for my current behavior. It’s easy.

Then this morning I perused the substacks, my mild alternative to social media, and came across a piece about numbing out in these UNPRECEDENTED (a million vomit emojis here) times.

Whether or not I was looking for the clarity, it was looking for me, and here we are.

Ahh yes goes the wise grandmother me, forever patient, that’s what we’ve been waiting for.

The recognition.

Recognition brings action.

What action?

It’s a good question.

Maybe no action.

But awareness offers all we need, in time.

Well that and social structures in place that give us the freedom to become aware and act accordingly in the first place.

Which we are losing even in the “free” world at an alarming but unfortunately not surprising pace. After all, it’s what Trump ran on - fucking over the American people and sucking the dicks of the wealthiest individuals - and so many of us were and are like “woooooooooohhhhhhhhhh take it all away and watch us starve!”

But, that’s what happens when people are scared AND scared to think for themselves.

Sorry, but also I’m really not, if that sounds harsh.

A digression.

Anyways.

Numbing.

Oh yeah, I’ve been using all the big girl “good” things to drown out my anxiety and discomfort about this dying and rebirth process on a global, collective scale. So it can’t be a bad thing. Right?

Right. And not right. And all the things in-between.

Practice is hard because feeling is hard. And the reality is, we can’t feel everything all the time. We’d EXPLODE, and most of us are too close or even beyond that threshold on a daily basis. So numbing - or maybe, titrating? - isn’t the worst thing because FUCK what can we do and we have to take care of ourselves and only we know what we need and no amount of good vibes and white ladies in lulu’s telling us to just forget the world and breathe while we do an athletic shape that determines how good we are at being a superior thoughtful “ascended into the 5th dimension” human is actually going to help us. But again, a nice distraction.

So my reckoning of this Sunday morning is. I am distracting myself from the very thing I crave.

Depth. Otherworldly connection.

I know I’m human.

But, like ALL OF US, I’m something else too.

And I don’t like feeling only human. It makes me feel like I’m not fully myself. Like parts of me are hidden. When they are hidden, they don't infiltrate and infuse. They don’t invite my people to my sphere, they don’t guide me to the spheres of others, and I believe now more than ever we need our people.

All of this to say I am lonely. And sad. And, while its not a blame scenario, I have done it to myself.

I am not only those things, thankfully. But I am those things.

Unobserved, these feelings become hungry. For attention, for an ear to their message.

Unfed, these feelings become monsters.

Then the cycle of disconnect, fear, numbing, and loneliness and sadness, continues, and I am carried further and further adrift.

-

A love letter, you ask?

A love letter to myself - come back! I miss you! I was a fool, etc etc etc.

A love letter to you, my fellow humans who are comfortable with the more than-ness of their existence - come back! I miss you! I’m desperate for our connection, to know that I am not alone in the weird, out there, misfit stuff that makes me feel most like myself.

I promise I’ll try not to be so numb. Can you promise to try and find me?

Because I need you. More than I’ve ever needed anyone in my life, I need you now.

God speed to all those looking for their people, their community, their circle, their special home that exists solely in the souls of others. May we all find them. <3