I read a post recently at the blog, The Woman Who Married A Bear, and it struck a chord within me. She spoke of how blogging has become this capitalist venture, a scramble for personal branding, and how she refused to give in. That she would continue to write for herself. In the last year I had been trying to make a blog like all the others, informational pieces to gain followers that (though I enjoy sharing information for the sake of sharing information) would hopefully down the road lead to clients for my business. That I might become one of those people who make enough 'blogging' that they can work from home and fund their homesteading ventures and so on and so forth. And in attempting to do so, I lost sight of why I originally began blogging years ago. To express myself, to share a bit of my life, my journey, my experiences, with anyone who might stumble upon my words and resonate with them. To write of magic. And the earth... Though I still will keep at my 'business blog' as I feel called to-- really I haven't been able to keep any semblance of regularity with posting there (and have avoided falling so low as to have advertising on it)-- I have decided to create this space. This space that is mine. This space that is free of capitalism, free of ads, free. This space that is a place for me to once again write.
FROZEN RIVER was the first blank post when I created this blog, and I thought it, and found the photo, fitting for my current state of being. A colorless scene of a winter river racing along a forested bank. In that photo I see reflected my colorless, frozen, and yet rushing mind. I am among many who are fighting an inner turmoil, a rising anxiety and need to... do something, flee somewhere... that has arisen from the recent events in, namely, America. As someone who is energetically sensitive and already struggles with anxiety and depression, the last weeks have exacerbated those conditions. I find myself daily in a constant struggle with myself; stay or go, now or later, we'll be fine or we might be next... Simultaneously I want to curl into a ball and lock myself away from the world, but my goddesses stand over my shoulders poking and prodding me to action, to activism, to magical resistance. On top of that I fight with our living situation, too many people in too small a -moldy- house with contrasting parenting practices, lifestyles, dietary habits, with no local community that supports us and our work-- of seeking that and a place for us to call home, a place safe from the Regime, a place of growing things and rituals around the bonfire and babies born in the sauna...
I stop and take a breath. And then the mind begins to race again. I focus on the healing of a wounded heart and a wounded body, her tears releasing the burdens of caring for a dying child, and then the mind begins to race again. I breathe. I cry. I scream. I heal. I draw the cards, and put them back exasperated. I struggle with the need to be seen for my work, to support my family with my business, and yet wanting to hide away from the world. It is a constant battle...
My self-care, when I remember to keep up with it, is as follows:
... to breathe, deeply
... to get out of the house and spend time alone
... to try to eat more often, and eat healthier when I can (something I was used to and with our situation has fallen to the wayside)
... to keep up on my Vitamin D and medicinal mushroom supplements
... to spend time outside, breathing the sharply cold air and walking on the sleeping earth with bare feet
Some other resources for self-care for activists and all of us alike:
StartFragmentFor organizers, activists, and caregivers >>
Welcome to my blog.
Stay strong y'all.