A dear mentor of mine recently shared about Mercury Retrograde being an invitation to review and repair relationships long broken. Soon thereafter, an old friend whom I haven’t heard from in years reached out to me, wanting to reconnect.
This particular friend was someone who had said some very painful things in the past, thus leading me to distance myself from them for some time. When they reached out during this current retrograde season (December 19th to January 8th), I should-ed all over myself.
“You should hang out with them.”
“You should forgive them.”
“You should be the big one, the enlightened one, the healed one sprouting her Popeye arms and third eye chakra galore.”
Those thoughts didn’t last long. About 23 hours, to be precise, before I remembered something about what the heck true strength is.
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This message is for those of you who struggle with a two-letter word:
“No.”
I’ve been in the Just-Trying-to-Say-No club most of my life. I know all too well the challenges of mustering a “no” from these lips when my pulse is rising, my chest contracting, and I’m breaking a light sweat, all telling me that death awaits on the other side of “no.” The death of likeability, wantability, love, approval.
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When the world, as far as you can tell, is falling apart,
A hopeless, mad, unraveling mess
Nations slamming their borders shut in fear of “the other”
Oceans warming, wildfires burning, lowlands flooding, polar bears starving
Our queer brothers and sisters, celebrating wide open to life, gunned down mid-song
And it’s more than your heart can take
And you yourself want to withdraw, or erect your own mile-high borders, or to clench your hands tight into fists and fight back, scratch back, throw missiles back across the border of us/them
Notice
Listen
Can you feel
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Gentle here.
We can't get the memo too much.
We can't hear it too often.
Tread gently here.
THE CURSE OF THE FUNK
I don't know about you, but these past two weeks, I'm pretty sure the planets have been in the constellation of Funk. It's been funky in the home, funky on the street, funky in the various circles of friends and communities. I'm pretty sure those midnight stars are getting down John Travolta-style to "You Should Be Dancing."
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THE S-WORD, AND HOW THE HECK TO WRITE ABOUT IT
For the last of my Shameless Summer Series, I wanted to write to you all with a message about "the S-word," identity to be determined in just a moment.
But a problem arose: I didn't know how to do it, without being regarded as spam and sent away to a far off mysterious land called Junkmail, never to be seen again.
And so I am resorting to sneaky sideways references to that three-lettered word that is, needless to say, a fundamental part of life, insofar as none of us would be here without it.
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You’re in a conversation with someone you care about. You catch a hint that one of you wants more closeness/more space than the other. One of you pulls away in silence, or perhaps pretends that “everything’s fine” with not-so-hidden undertones of hopelessness, while the other moves in closer, perhaps tightening in fear or impatience.
Angry, fearful, or withdrawn reactivity bursts like a flame onto the scene.Criticisms and accusations abound, feeding one another like logs on a fire.
Suddenly: disconnect.No one present in the room.
Sound familiar?
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People love to give advice.
Whether you want it or not. Whether it's useful or not. Whether they've considered, digested, reflected upon their own triggers, feelings, and needs -- or not.
They love to tell you what's wrong with you, what you should do with your life, where you went astray, and what you "need to do" to get back on track.
Oftentimes, such "help" comes in moments that we're hurting and in need support, we're genuinely wobbly, vulnerable, and in need of guidance. Then comes our friend who generously decides to "speak their mind," and suddenly the mess only gets messier.
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Dear ones,
As Valentine's Day approaches, a day that can provoke so much angst in us whether we are single or partnered, I wish to join that revolutionary current which every year helps re-write the script of what's possible on a day curated and seemingly owned by Hallmark.
Let us declare Valentine's Day an invitation to that energy of love which beckons all of us to lean just a little deeper, a little more surrendered, into its wildly open and unconditionally tender arms.
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Home. Family. Holidays.
Feeling excited yet?
Three words that can conjure up images of awkward family dinners, pursed lips, charged words, stiff-armed hugs, and the family dog fed scraps of bitter resentment under the table.
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So many of us are deeply impacted by world events as of late — the bombings in Paris and in Beirut, the hostage crisis in Mali, the refugee crisis sweeping through Europe, and the crisis of xenophobia pouring faster than refugees into our own nation.
So many of us are feeling heartbroken and wanting to make a difference — whether to make our world safer, to contribute to more compassionate dialogue about refugees and asylum, or to foster awareness of the underpinnings of what we call peace and terrorism.
The sights and sounds of terror and trauma front and center in the news can feel like too much for these hearts and bodies to make sense of. Often I have wondered, “Was I born into the wrong time on this planet? I never asked to live in a world this broken,” and I know many of you have asked the same.
This article was published online. READ MORE AT REBELLE SOCIETY
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