About a week late, but still on Shabbat.
What is there to celebrate a year after laughing at Death's attempt to collect?
I'm still living.
With patience and wrestled will power-- I can still drink small amounts of wine. Small by Old Naomi's definition.
I'm working.
I'm thinking about the work I want to do with my life.
I'm managing the full time job/chore of my TBI.
I am becoming aware of the type of Advocacy is needed for TBI.
I'm re-thinking the work I want to do with my life. But maybe that is nothing new.
I am still a writer wrestling with subjects contained.
I am maybe stupidly, maybe foolishly and frustratingly, maybe pre-maturely, maybe... maybe... falling in... catastrophic maybe incompatible love. That is new.
I am still laughing.
And that is pretty big news because part of this list, most of this list is split down the middle with many un-laughable things.
Of all the things to survive with the most mythological creature-back-from-the-dead strength... well that would be, no fucking joke, my sense of humor.
What is there to mourn? A life, just starting to make sense.
A job working with younglings, not quite what I'd wanted but what I would have been so good at.
Great friends who are now far away, some of them moving even further.
A wonderfully full spiritual life in a community that I was happy to trust, not with blind faith but with an earned with great confidence in spans of time in which trust was hard pressed to be earned.
And it is not to say that I can not have these things again. It will not be in the same place. Not in the same shape.
I mourn only what I'd worked so hard to earn.
But, that is life, no? The constant cycle or earning and re-earning. Attempting to establish permanence in an element of life only do discover the foundation is faulty or the rug yanked from under foot or the finish line has been reassigned.
So really, nothing has changed.
My sense of humor is still strong. I am still cranky about not having enough of what I want and having too much of what I don't need. I am still lonely in loving.
Nothing has changed.
What is there to celebrate a year after laughing at Death's attempt to collect?
I'm still living.
With patience and wrestled will power-- I can still drink small amounts of wine. Small by Old Naomi's definition.
I'm working.
I'm thinking about the work I want to do with my life.
I'm managing the full time job/chore of my TBI.
I am becoming aware of the type of Advocacy is needed for TBI.
I'm re-thinking the work I want to do with my life. But maybe that is nothing new.
I am still a writer wrestling with subjects contained.
I am maybe stupidly, maybe foolishly and frustratingly, maybe pre-maturely, maybe... maybe... falling in... catastrophic maybe incompatible love. That is new.
I am still laughing.
And that is pretty big news because part of this list, most of this list is split down the middle with many un-laughable things.
Of all the things to survive with the most mythological creature-back-from-the-dead strength... well that would be, no fucking joke, my sense of humor.
What is there to mourn? A life, just starting to make sense.
A job working with younglings, not quite what I'd wanted but what I would have been so good at.
Great friends who are now far away, some of them moving even further.
A wonderfully full spiritual life in a community that I was happy to trust, not with blind faith but with an earned with great confidence in spans of time in which trust was hard pressed to be earned.
And it is not to say that I can not have these things again. It will not be in the same place. Not in the same shape.
I mourn only what I'd worked so hard to earn.
But, that is life, no? The constant cycle or earning and re-earning. Attempting to establish permanence in an element of life only do discover the foundation is faulty or the rug yanked from under foot or the finish line has been reassigned.
So really, nothing has changed.
My sense of humor is still strong. I am still cranky about not having enough of what I want and having too much of what I don't need. I am still lonely in loving.
Nothing has changed.
