"When we gonna wake in honey?"

Back with the flea with a headcold and a fever.  (wrote this last night, decided to wait until daylight to post. cue revisions)

None of the things I want to talk about are coming easily out of my fingertips.  I want to rigidly schedule my days, to keep from feeling like I'm losing track of things.   I want to spend all my time trying to predict the outcomes of unpredictable things, because I'm having a harder time just being chill and letting things happen.  I want to read, but instead make endless lists of the things I have read, or the things I want to read.  I want to eat better, exercise, sleep better, but I don't.   I want to find some way to have more woo in my life, or woo at all, but instead search etsy for symbols.    

We went to a class called grounding, centering and shielding, and I tried some new imagery, I wanted to be sand.  teeny tiny rocks subjected to immense amounts of force, a thing that was itself, but was also alterable, the place where the ocean meets the shore without the shore becoming the ocean (I didn't really spend much time on the idea that I wanted to be someplace liminal and transformative, or in opposition to the ocean I figure I'll get back to that later). And later, hearing people talk about ordeal paths made me wonder if I've been putting myself through ordeals, without the language or the framework to recognize them.  

When Light and I went to Hawaii four years ago, I ended up deciding to give the ocean my mastectomy.  I wasn't sure exactly what I meant, but I knew the ocean was big and would be better at handling than I was. Part of what I want back is that feeling, that there are things bigger and better at handling me than I am, even if their handling is primarily couched in languages I can't understand.  One of my favorite bits about Ananke is that the greeks did not sacrifice to her, because there was no appeasing necessity, it just kept happening. And it seems disingenuous to want for gods and to have written one on my body, and survival might be a form of prayer, but I feel like she's not all of what I'm looking for.

and maybe it's that I've turned forty, and want for a cause to devote myself to, a place to put all my energy and that's combining badly with the depression, so half the time I want to be a housewife, and half the time I want to drop everything and run.  (and half the time I want a kid and half the time I want to make more money and half the time I want to find a career where I can do things that bring me peace and half the time I just want to stay very small and still and hope for the storms to pass)

So I make pinterest boards of food and clothes and inspiring house things and art projects and use the internet as some sort of rosary.    I put a fifteen minute timer on during the day, and do things in chunks.  Work, khan academy, clean, reimagine my house as a more comforting place, read.  I've been whiffing on the self-love course, but Abundance helped me through week two of the coursera course, and I'm pretty up to date on the editing course, though I suspect I'm going to opt to stay home tonight, in hopes a little extra downtime will make me all better enough to hang with Delight tomorrow.