someone needs to make an alarm clock that adjusts to one's personal sleep cycle, so that you are still woken up in plenty of time to get ready for work/the day, but you are NOT woken up mid-REM sleep.
come on, brain. three hours is more than enough time to get yourself together.
the bed needs to be made.
the dishes need to be washed.
the second crocheted baby sock needs to be finished.
the second biology chapter needs reading.
the math homework needs doing (but you got the concept, which is impressive).
the bags and backpack need packing.
the clients need massaging.
the niece and nephew need to be played with and snuggled.
the s'mores blondies need to be baked.
come on, brain. you can do this...
Monday, August 31, 2015
Monday, August 24, 2015
feels.
all of them.
i'm heartbroken that Michfest (as we know it) is no more. we, all of us, will never be together like that again. i tried to walk the fine line between being aware of/enjoying all the "lasts" without dwelling on them, and mostly i succeeded. the deep, deep sobbing and wailing really only happened once for me: Saturday night, when i watched the Night Stage go dark (except for the work lights) for the last time.
i'm full to bursting with love, though. and joy. and gratitude. that, out of all the people and possibilities in the world, we won the fucking lottery. we got to experience this place, be changed by it, broken open by it, healed and made whole by it. and we were so gentle and open with each other. all of us. god, how i love all of us!
i'm amazed at the depth of the Fest Magic this year. everything i wished and hoped for, happened. the worker bands were blue (my favorite). there was a rainbow after the thunderstorm on Sunday evening. there was a sign-up sheet for opening ceremonies, and i got to wear all white and hand out acorns to my sisters, saying "take what you love from this land, and plant something beautiful". i slept on the Night Stage my last night there, by myself, under the stars. every time i opened my eyes, the Milky Way above me had shifted. and the soft, soft light of the Night Stage bowl at dawn....mmmmmmm. and best of all, E was able to make it up for the weekend! the gates close at 10pm, and she skidded in at 9:59 (in the pouring rain).
i'm numb. i don't know how to unpack. i'm washing things, and putting them back in the safe places they live between Fests, knowing that there won't be any more Fests. i'm not washing things, because they still smell like the Land.
i'm still feral. and i'm resolved to stay feral. to live as like a Narnian as i can, even if there isn't any Narnia.
i'm nervous and excited, because tomorrow is my first day of school. Biology and Intermediate Algebra. a new path. a new beginning. a confidence, and a sense of certainty, that are a direct result of the nine times i joined thousands of my sisters in the Michigan woods.
i carry them with me. always.
i'm heartbroken that Michfest (as we know it) is no more. we, all of us, will never be together like that again. i tried to walk the fine line between being aware of/enjoying all the "lasts" without dwelling on them, and mostly i succeeded. the deep, deep sobbing and wailing really only happened once for me: Saturday night, when i watched the Night Stage go dark (except for the work lights) for the last time.
i'm full to bursting with love, though. and joy. and gratitude. that, out of all the people and possibilities in the world, we won the fucking lottery. we got to experience this place, be changed by it, broken open by it, healed and made whole by it. and we were so gentle and open with each other. all of us. god, how i love all of us!
i'm amazed at the depth of the Fest Magic this year. everything i wished and hoped for, happened. the worker bands were blue (my favorite). there was a rainbow after the thunderstorm on Sunday evening. there was a sign-up sheet for opening ceremonies, and i got to wear all white and hand out acorns to my sisters, saying "take what you love from this land, and plant something beautiful". i slept on the Night Stage my last night there, by myself, under the stars. every time i opened my eyes, the Milky Way above me had shifted. and the soft, soft light of the Night Stage bowl at dawn....mmmmmmm. and best of all, E was able to make it up for the weekend! the gates close at 10pm, and she skidded in at 9:59 (in the pouring rain).
i'm numb. i don't know how to unpack. i'm washing things, and putting them back in the safe places they live between Fests, knowing that there won't be any more Fests. i'm not washing things, because they still smell like the Land.
i'm still feral. and i'm resolved to stay feral. to live as like a Narnian as i can, even if there isn't any Narnia.
i'm nervous and excited, because tomorrow is my first day of school. Biology and Intermediate Algebra. a new path. a new beginning. a confidence, and a sense of certainty, that are a direct result of the nine times i joined thousands of my sisters in the Michigan woods.
i carry them with me. always.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)