Rinsing the Goddess around my mouth today. Then I swallow. I’m not sure where I fit in in space and time. The mustaches on my cousins pour whiskey into the heart of sunshine. I love to write whatever comes.

Trash collectors slam and bang plastic cartons from the alley. What I hear is mostly silence. The neighbor in green shirt and hat saunters by quickly with his brindled mutt. I am nearly here. I have never been exactly right here before. Even though I’ve spent much of my life in this house, I am different now than I’ve ever been . My left shoulder aches. This morning adrenaline poured through my body thinking of the week ahead and all I would accomplish.

I’m scared. I mean I’m REALLY scared so much of the time. I honestly am not sure why. I mean it is truly terrifying to be human. There’s always something so God awful going on that we might as well all give up and die.

But the wonder! Gasp the wonder. Where every minute is a cosmic miracle, with wild light, beauty and creativity.

My breath warns me I’m okay, that I’ve got this. The quiet morning blossoms around me now that the garbage truck has moved on to hurtle objects elsewhere. I inhabit most of my body. Terror or excitement snakes up my legs and shoots me full of adrenaline. I say yes inside and my day has hardly begun.

The universe: Be gentle. Don’t force anything.

Me: I don’t know how to allow!

The universe: Let’s start again.

Me: I’m so scared! I can’t. I won’t. You must stop making me, forcing me. I’m only a child I’m not ready this can’t be happening. Argh!

Ah, child. So many voices from inside one skin. A cacophony of yeses and nos. I want. I fear. I yearn. I hide. All inside.

I feel paralyzed by all their yowling, and exhausted. I’ve fought myself this far. I’d really like to simply rest. Much of me longs to move forward, yet the same pterodactyls of dismay attack so I can only inch ahead. I hear their calls in the sky. It’s all so tiring. I wonder what it would be like to have all of me working together toward my goals, no one fighting through self-sabotage, none of these demons who think they’re protecting me, who are me and just misunderstand, who are doing their best. Who has time to tend to them all?

And you know, this is us trying to make change as humans too. Every change we hope to accomplish, thousands resist out of fear for their safety. And you know force doesn’t work: I’ve tried it inside myself, and we know it fails every time in the world also. Yet our president didn’t get that memo. Force always backfires in the end, because those you overcame come back stronger and fiercer. They won’t back down. The only way to make change is to change hearts and get on the same page and make peace.

Haven’t I done this every day of my life for the past 20 years? And so, to awake stunned, immobile with the churning of a thousand selves feels rather disheartening. Didn’t I make any progress at all?

Sleep beckons. It says: Don’t worry, I know it all seems like too much and it is, for now. Sleep, sleep and eventually we’ll sort it out enough to make a leap. Next year. Or next week.

I sleep sitting up while drinking jasmine tea in my sage green pullover and my new gray leggings. It’s cold in the house. We’ve turned off the heat because the days are so warm. We need the cool start to keep it temperate later. Still, it makes me long to crawl under my covers even more and to wait for spring.

The illusion of separation causes so much pain today, beginning at the very top of our government. And somehow what I can contribute is to stay connected. It’s so very much to ask, somehow. For some reason, it’s what I have. If I have more, I’m willing to share it. For starters, I’m still awake typing, though barely.

For starters, I’m alive. For starters, I wish everything on this planet well. A space and food and shelter. Habitat. A chance to blossom.

I’m not sure how to allow this to happen. But I can’t force it, and neither can anyone. I can’t even force myself, though I’ve tried. It backfires. I think we mentioned that.

I herd cats. I listen to voices. I drink tea. I allow all of me. We shall see.