dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Saturday, April 14, 2018

good medicine

I haven't been feeling well.  Called in sick to the chopping party.  But I'll make it to Empty Bowl today.

This morning I was supposed to serve but Ming didn't wake me up until 6.  He lost track of time.  He went without me.

Last night there were only three of us at Political Prisoner Letter Writing Night, but we managed to make that work.  I wrote a lot in each card.

I've been sleeping wrong and hurting my back.  I need to walk more, which is good medicine for my back, but it's hard to make myself do that sort of thing, lately.

Something upbeat, encouraging, or positive.  I have a lot of support.  I think I'll write in my journal.


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