how I really feel
Last night I went to a women's group. There was dinner then a talking circle. I'm glad I brought the leftover black eyed peas plus spinach because dinner was chicken. The lady had this delicious peach juice. Peach mixed with something else maybe.
I was shocked to be given presents. I was given a plastic box of homemade cookies, a grapefruit tangerine soap with fancy matching hand cream, and something I haven't opened yet which I think is a calendar?
These ladies, they have kids, and they were talking about all the people they buy presents for. Coworkers, their kids' teachers, workers at the YMCA. There are so many ways I would fail at being a mom!
Things got really emotional. My friend was crying, and I started crying too, as she told this long beautiful story of guilt and feelings. So many feelings. The stuff of life!
I put some hand cream on the backs of my hands, which are so dry there are little owies on the left hand. I felt weird that I was given this fancy stuff, like I didn't deserve it, or I should save it to give to someone else. It was confusing. Was I allowed to enjoy it? As if it were too good for me.
Life is confusing. This morning I did some writing at the Catholic Worker after we served. J was giving some schoolkids and their chaperones a tour. I paused in my writing, listening as she told everyone in the next room about what we do and how the street people need love and community, which we can provide a little of.
Ming is out doing the work, tabling for NDE at Happy Earth Market, handing out the new event fliers R designed and had printed up yesterday. Advertising for the MLK Day parade next year and the Sacred Peace Walk. He'll sell NDE teeshirts and give away stickers for donation, hand out brochures, talk to people.
All that while I stay home hiding out and being disabled. But there are all kinds of work to do in this world. Blogging, solstice cards, laundry. Telling someone how I really feel.
This morning R and I had a conversation about how we have to love our whole selves, including our shadow selves, because even if it's bad, it's okay. It's good. And if you sweep stuff under the rug it comes back to bite you at inopportune moments. You gotta deal with all that.
"Look at this," H said to me in the Catholic Worker kitchen, showing me his beautiful silver watch. "Look familiar?" he asked. I admired it but didn't recognize it. "It was your dad's," he said. Turned out Ming gave it to him. It was in with a bag for Goodwill and Ming thought H would like it better. It looked so nice on his wrist, glowy silver. He got a new battery put in at Walmart.
I was shocked to be given presents. I was given a plastic box of homemade cookies, a grapefruit tangerine soap with fancy matching hand cream, and something I haven't opened yet which I think is a calendar?
These ladies, they have kids, and they were talking about all the people they buy presents for. Coworkers, their kids' teachers, workers at the YMCA. There are so many ways I would fail at being a mom!
Things got really emotional. My friend was crying, and I started crying too, as she told this long beautiful story of guilt and feelings. So many feelings. The stuff of life!
I put some hand cream on the backs of my hands, which are so dry there are little owies on the left hand. I felt weird that I was given this fancy stuff, like I didn't deserve it, or I should save it to give to someone else. It was confusing. Was I allowed to enjoy it? As if it were too good for me.
Life is confusing. This morning I did some writing at the Catholic Worker after we served. J was giving some schoolkids and their chaperones a tour. I paused in my writing, listening as she told everyone in the next room about what we do and how the street people need love and community, which we can provide a little of.
Ming is out doing the work, tabling for NDE at Happy Earth Market, handing out the new event fliers R designed and had printed up yesterday. Advertising for the MLK Day parade next year and the Sacred Peace Walk. He'll sell NDE teeshirts and give away stickers for donation, hand out brochures, talk to people.
All that while I stay home hiding out and being disabled. But there are all kinds of work to do in this world. Blogging, solstice cards, laundry. Telling someone how I really feel.
This morning R and I had a conversation about how we have to love our whole selves, including our shadow selves, because even if it's bad, it's okay. It's good. And if you sweep stuff under the rug it comes back to bite you at inopportune moments. You gotta deal with all that.
"Look at this," H said to me in the Catholic Worker kitchen, showing me his beautiful silver watch. "Look familiar?" he asked. I admired it but didn't recognize it. "It was your dad's," he said. Turned out Ming gave it to him. It was in with a bag for Goodwill and Ming thought H would like it better. It looked so nice on his wrist, glowy silver. He got a new battery put in at Walmart.
posted by Laura-Marie @ 10:35 AM
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