social studies

Rest well, dear friend and mentor, N. Eugene Tester. It’s immeasurable how much better I am for having known you. I fear anything else I could or should convey now will only feel trite and thin, but I feel a need to try…

There is much to say about his work as an educator, as well as his positive impact on me, my life, and helping me to honor, sharpen, and utilize my inherent gifts and abilities. He taught me to dismantle the destructive behavior of anyone who tried to minimize or harm me or a community, via informed intelligence and truth. Rest well, good man. Thank you for reinforcing in me to always keep seeking knowledge and to never cease learning. Thank you for seeing everything everyone was trying to crush out of me and frame as wrong, for the intrinsic gifts they were. I wouldn’t be half the truth teller and perpetual student I am had I not met, been respected by, and learned from you.

What a full, and well-lived life.

Though you never believed it, we will met again.

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hey lady

(I tried to make an image only post, but this wordpress theme won’t post my image alone so here’s some text…)

It is 1:48 and I’m already back in bed, working from here. (I consider this a huge success.) When I was a child, I wished for bed cars… slow mph beds that you could just steer around so that you didn’t have to leave bed. And when Google and Tesla develop that in a few years, just remember whose mind was cutting that edge way back when.

Today I enthused all over the lady sampling and selling mushroom tinctures at the grocery store until she gave me Paul Stamets’ book of scientific mushroom studies for free (presumably) so that I would go away. Me: “Paul Stamets?! I LOVE HIS WORK. MUSHROOMS ARE GOING TO SAVE US.” Her: “…yes… here take this with you…” (It didn’t really go like that, but I did note that my enthusiasm for getting to talk about mushroom research, mid-day at a grocery store on a run of the mill Tuesday, was pretty vibrant.)

The thing about having this many points and planets in Sagittarius is that when there is no upheaval you are living through, you have all of this available, genuine enthusiasm just effusing all over the place. I feel sorry for people on the street with dogs… I’m going to stop and tell all of you how great they are. ALL OF YOU.

 

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today’s guest star

When the class you are attending emails the night before saying: “wear your most comfortable clothes.”

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No one has ever been as qualified for a job as I am for this one.

new cast members

I love when the symbols change, the signals of next and new. Before now, the last few years were thick with birds around me, and constantly finding feathers on the ground, in my bag, on my clothes. Before that, it was years of garter snakes and bees.

Aside from a few found feathers here at this house in late summer, nothing presented itself. Those feathers were almost like a handoff or assurance, a sort of: this is where we leave you.

No birds visit my feeders here. There was the strange fly infestation, constant scout ants, then the two bee stings. Those all seemed to signal a finality, like a firmly placed bookend. Then, there was the eclipse, like the end of a reel of film finishing as a new one rolls out empty length, before the short countdown. In August, one obvious, wonderful moth on my door for several days, but that was all.

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symbols of transformation, most welcome

Now, here, it’s all spiders, ladybugs, and slugs. I’m so curious about this. A ladybug slowly crawling across my keyboard, another on my doorframe, another on my shirt. They were active and vibrant and just greeting, but due to the season, also sort of urgent.

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blurry before flight

With the spiders, it feels like the whole house is fully encased outside in cobwebs. It feels protective — many, many webs in every direction. Precise¬†sentries sitting at the center of the crafted traps, waiting. And two nights ago, the one across my jeans, gentle and calm, just sauntering a hello.

And today I got in my car and where a passenger should be, was just an extremely fine and delicate web, from passenger visor to headrest, and the little spring greenish web spinner was hanging from the rearview mirror, like: see? It was gorgeous and she had built it in a little over 14 hours.

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friends, three deep

Slugs have specific significance for me, and it’s interesting to see them now (if sometimes in the house). Their presence communicates a lot to me, very clearly. Less of a bookend and more of a several page visual break between dense stories in a collection.

I’m curious to see if these will remain turning up. And, if they will perpetuate their significance and messages. While I’m grateful for these (the sudden flies and ants were alarming), I have to say, I miss the birds a bunch. Not having a transparent window over the sink has been a little loss, but gaining immense north facing windows has balanced that out.

 

I have no idea how this song got into a playlist and started playing in my car the other day. This gent hadn’t hit my radar. It started playing on the 9th and apparently now all I do is drive around listening to this song on repeat and crying. This dude’s stuff is not my bag, but I guess this song was just the right song for the very worst time.

I went to buy CBD oil yesterday for a resulting stress migraine and conducted the whole transaction while silently crying. The kind sales clerk said: ‘…are you sure i can’t get you something stronger?’

I don’t know how explain to my son his mom crying. He just tries to give me apples.

I tried to explain a little, about nice people and people who are not nice. I don’t know that he will remember very much anyway, he’s so young. But I think this culture he will experience at such a young age will inevitably have an impact. I can remember being a toddler and young child laying in bed terrified about unstable farm subsidies, pollution, and Russia. What will he worry about each night?

Leonard Cohen was just insult to injury. I’ve cried through three concerts; his I cried steadily though, the entire show, which was probably the last time I cried until this week. New Skin for the Old Ceremony came out the year I was born. As people I grew up listening to go, his loss is by far the most difficult one yet. But, maybe he cut a deal and figured he could do more good for us from elsewhere, when we need it most? That seems like it would be his style.

I very literally feel like I dropped through dimensions and into a similar but worse one. I keep checking to see if I can make that theory hold water because very nearly everything is upside down.¬†I can’t do anything; I just sort of walk in stunned, dazed circles.

(the way he drags his nnnns is a lot like someone else but I can’t think of who? It’s driving me bananas. update. NEVERMIND IT’S PETER MURPHY. Duh. Of course.)