This morning, without my even touching it, or breathing on it, or glancing in its direction, my little phone that could, died. Pfft.
I sighed loudly. Then said to the dogs, because they listen to me better than any human, "Fuck. Mercury must be retrograde."
It isn't. Not yet. But it's about to be. Which means all those things that are already causing my own head to explode off its shoulders (are they causing your head to explode off your shoulders, too?) are about to make it doubly so and I may need to hide out in a pillow fort of very, very soft cushions for a while with no access to anything electrical. Or mechanical. Or perhaps even human. Just me and dogs and some dark leafy greens and beet juice for the duration.
What are all of you doing for self-care during these times of awful news every seventeen minutes?
I'll share what I'm doing.
Lots of walks. The dogs and I are walking and walking and walking. They seem to be enjoying it. We stop and talk to strangers that we meet along the way. We also like that because, well, we like meeting the people who actually live here.
Listening to GOOD news. This isn't as easy as it sounds. However, I've found a few podcasts that provide good stories and I have quite enjoyed having them at the ready. Especially on those days when it seems like the world just might end in the next sixteen seconds.
Turning off all social media at 6:00 p.m. Period. Breaks from media, all of it, are good for your head. And your heart. And your psychological make-up, if you're anything like me.
Hot baths. I never really liked baths. Until now. Now? Now I fill the tub with epsom salts and light incense and play the podcast or some mix of fun tunes and soak and erase my head.
Acupuncture. Twice weekly. I swear to god this is what is keeping me on the planet. And my own head on my shoulders. I am not sure I'd still be here without it.
Massage. Twice a month. Deep tissue and craniosacral. Because, again, the stress and tension is real.
Pilates. I just added this in. I've discovered it works. I feel far more IN my own body rather than OUTSIDE my own body, as a result. It's working muscle groups I didn't even know I actually had or could isolate. It's helped me heal deep wounds. It's a good thing for the resistance.
Drinking lots of water. Lots and lots of water. To flush out all the bad and replace it with lots of new.
Volunteer work. I'm showing up. I'm participating. I actively resisting where I can and using my voice in constructive ways. I'm listening to the opposition and trying to figure out how we can work together instead of just saying no. Because, honestly, the runway for our planet is only getting shorter. There are small children who live here. They deserve far better than what we're currently giving to them. We inherited a much better planet that what we're leaving behind. Is that fair? I do not think it is.
Loving my neighbours. With abandon. Without judgment. Sharing my heart with them and trying to find the common ground. Because, again, time and the runway are short. We've got to figure all of this out together and standing on opposite sides of a broken fence complaining about it is not going to help mend it.
Breathing. That's probably the most important. I'm just trying to remember to breathe. I catch myself holding my breath. A lot. And it isn't good. I am trying to be conscious and to stop waiting to exhale. Resistance is futile if you're already dead.
You know, breathing? You have to do it in order to actually live and show up and participate and volunteer and listen and love and take your dogs on walks.
Even when Mercury is retrograde.
What is it that you're doing? I want to know.