Take your time and you'll be fine and say a prayer for people there

This morning, I keep having to argue with the voice in my head about what feelings I have a "right" to be feeling. I am accusing myself of wallowing or being needy. I think these are all distractions from facing the real stuff. Like, it's easier to yell at a stranger who cuts you off in traffic, it's easier to be annoyed with a friend, it's easier to get worked up over something small with the person you live with -- these all seem more manageable problems than the one of death and loss. Not that I necessarily believe either of those things are something that need to be solved; we watched the movie The Fountain last night and the main character's desperation and attachment to conquering death was so intense, so palpable, and I'm certainly not in any such state as thinking that death needs to be cured, but I am on the spectrum of grief. I have dreams every night with my mother's voice. I feel my father reaching out to me during the day. I am carrying my grief and the grief of others, I am the sensitive one in the family, I am the one who has the emotions for everyone.

I went camping this weekend and it was nice to be in the woods, to get sun, to breathe trees, to watch the fire, to even sweat constantly, I felt like I was shedding things out of my body. On Saturday I had a great car ride with BW that included a side trip to Racine for Chick-Fil-A lunch, as well as takeout as a surprise for the group and keetbabe's birthday. Those dozen chicken sandwiches lasted a long time. People know I love my ridiculous food adventures, and this was definitely up there (and there will be a photo to post soon), but it also just felt so of appropriately comfortable to be eating in a mall, one of the foods that I associate with childhood and the south. I silently toasted my family, as I drank the lemonade in the styrofoam cup. There were a few conversations during the two days too, about spiritual practice and traditions and what we grew up with and how it informs us now, and I generally have been avoiding in-depth analysis of christian theology of late because I feel I'm am constantly surrounded by problematic christianity (i.e. our government), but it was good to trace the lines from point A to point B. To learn about a friend's christian science heritage and how it overlaps and connects and what it all means for us as people here today. It is inevitable to ask these questions when death happens, but there's also a reason why it helps the process.

It was good to be around friends, even if I couldn't always be completely present, I would get overwhelmed at times. I still am. It's Monday morning and I'm alone, it is only me and my heart and the day, the week, stretched out in front of me to sit with it all. But moving around feels good too, physically moving while my heart stands still and wrenches while it heals. I ran this morning, now I will go downstairs and bring up the A/C units and install them, which is always a strain, a sweating activity that pays off satisfyingly. And then at 10:30, I will sit down and let myself remain there for as long as I need.

I am not permanent

Omg, hissyfit wins a special prize.

I came home and there was a puffy envelope in the mail and inside was a CD and a zine and a handwritten note and this amazing ring that looks like a crown and says "KING", and I was so giggly and elated and thought, why is she sending me this great package? Oh yeah, cause I asked for it. Haha. Thank you, V, for being the first one to arrive! And I've decided to wear the ring every day from now until my birthday, or wait, maybe everyday until I get back from my birthday day trip to SF. Its my birthday fortnight and I will love people as hard as I want.

I called my father back and left a message on his voicemail and it was No Big Deal, which is sort of a big deal. I e-mailed a former mentor of mine I haven't spoken to in a year who's been on my mind. I also googled an old friend I hadn't talked to in awhile and sent her an e-mail and she wrote me back an hour later. Oh, and I finally joined GoodReads.

My impromptu funeral-of-one this morning felt really good. I had a little turning point today, I think, that I've been sort of carrying around this stone I didn't know what to do with, and now its broken up a bit. The hard stuff is still there, no doubt, but it's less blocking. Water can't go through a boulder but it can seep through the bucket of rocks.