October 16, and it’s the end of the world as we know it. I sometimes feel an incandescent peace, sometimes horror.
Things I put in my mouth yesterday to try to heal my painful lichen planus: Turmeric paste with glycerin, orin, turmeric pills, food, water, Aloe Vera gel.
Okay, the food and water I added for other reasons.
My fingers sear in pain at the graphic images of the recent slaughter of 600 elephants for their tusks. Yet, if we cannot reverse climate change right now, right away, all animals are at risk of extinction. And the people are crazy and desperate, at war over resources.
My mind hurts. It’s got nothing to add. My heart wants to explode with love. My body, always reckless, craves rest. I want to cry, but loving action is needed now so I sip my tea and find reassurance in the oxygen that flows in and out of my lungs. It’s mind boggling.
I can’t do it! Of course you can do it. You are it! This moment is God, but it is also you. You can’t escape it, and trying to escape makes everything suck more. One eye opens from behind my hand. I smile at me. Slowly, the arms come down. One person, without defenses.
I woke too early, but I leapt out of bed because after stalling and stalling, I started to dream I was peeing, and you know where that could lead. I think about buying a waterproof mattress cover now…years and years before we should need it. But then I think: Maybe we’ll die much sooner of the apocalypse. Still, I want the mattress cover on BEFORE I dream the peeing dream and I don’t wake up.
Yesterday, in rhythm class, we marched around counting and clapping in a circle. R___ smiled when she talked about her important role being a fan to her favorite band. She jumps when they jump, smiles at them, sings along, feels their complicated rhythms in her body, and reflects all this vibration right back at them.
I’ve expected to be famous since I was a little kid, and now I realize that was never supposed to be in my cards. I am to give myself to humanitarian causes. In this lifetime, the limelight will eschew me unless as an accidental byproduct of working for the good of others. (Gotta north node in Aquarius, for those who know what this means.)
I’m a fan of solving the world’s extinction problems before breakfast.
If I knew how, I would. Fatigue returns in waves.
Sometimes I feel expansive, large as all life, but I’m a bit of a person, mighty when placed in the right power tool, small and insignificant until then.
Me: I don’t know if I can. Also me: You can.
Like that, over and over again. It’s true. I don’t know whether I can, but I intend stay in the saddle of this moment.
I’ve been sending my Essence of Perelandra drops to my daily to-do list, a list which always now includes: Highest good actions to save the Earth. Yesterday, after visiting my good friend for tea, I fiddled with my ebike readying to ride back out to Gunbarrel. L____ drove by and asked if I’d take a yard sign for Yes on Prop. 112. I turned to show I’d need to ask my folks (their yard), and there was my mom, her face still in the window, nodding with enthusiasm. So I took the sign, plunked it into the front lawn, hopped on my bike and rode off.
Right place, right time, small thing.
We can only be superheroes if we show up, fully present, and notice and allow ourselves to be conduits. It might not be as dramatic as when Superman used his body across the gaping broken tracks to keep the train from hurtling off into space.
It might not show at all. We may never be recognized.
But we count.
Every little bit helps.