Rohatsu, the eighth day of the twelfth month. Eleven days of combined retreats. I stopped working for a paycheck on November 30th. The word retirement doesn’t resonate. Turned off the auto alarm on the phone. The covid pandemic helped in reaching this decision. Not understanding the level of stress until you’re pulled out of it. Buying into this system just enough to have generated a monthly income from social security. There will be plenty as soon as the “buying” into the consumerist hold is released.
What are you going to do? Will you and D. travel? “My life is calling”, I heard myself respond. How is that done? What does it feel like, look like? The goal, on day 15? Remain in listening mode. Receive the calling.
bell hooks passed away this morning – “The crisis facing men is not the crisis of masculinity, it is the crisis of patriarchal masculinity.” Muriel Rukeyser was born on this day in 1913: “What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? The world would split open.”
I want to write and there is exhaustion. Overwhelm. Healthy inertia? Sometimes viewed as negatives or hold-backs are now felt as gifts that will allow for. Receiving. Listening. Hearing is an activity. Being present is a verb. To love is an action (bell again).
Got up at 2:30am a few nights ago and for 15 minutes watched five shooting stars fly over and into the eastern dark of sky. Venus has been holding court with Saturn and Jupiter. Forty miles an hour winds and I lost my hat walking the dog. Preparing to get my booster, dancing with the doh website. What if you aren’t online? When are men going to stop murdering us? When will school shootings end? When will trump go to jail? Is this the modern-day version of the pre-ww2?
“To live is so startling, it leaves little room for other occupations.” Emily Dickinson