Are you still here too? Did you find it hard, or easy?
I had water constantly in my dreams: flooding around and inside the house, waters rising and receding, huge ships full of passengers listing dangerously, threatening to capsize. Finally, in the last day, things were dry. I could even explore lands that were flat and dry, but there was literal house-cleaning to do.
I had water on the Tarot cards: Cards from the Cups suit, appearing upended. Oceans, ships, storms. Sometimes the synchronicities were so overwhelming as to make me go “Enough!”
I had old hurts dredged out by casual remarks. Even understanding that it was for healing and letting go, knowing this did not make the feelings easier to swim through. It still left me breathless, and afterwards, mysterious tingles persist on my body, particularly on my back, near the heart, to the right of my spine. I can touch this one spot over and over, wondering if it’s my clothing, or a bug bite, but no, I think it’s new energy entering where I’d been hurt before.
I kept my schedule light, yet observed that emergencies seemed to pop up everywhere. Disruptions happened. I was annoyed at the repetition of old patterns. More important things had to be prioritised. Self-care was moved to the top of the list when my body bailed.
I wanted less and less to do with the men who only knew how to deride sensitivity. How many more people need to know the damage they do to others and themselves when they ask for everything to be calculable, measurable, physical and material before it matters? That everything feminine needs to be be held to masculine standards before being deemed worthy.
I wanted to create. To make as many things of beauty as possible, to counter hate and ugliness. To make life worth living, to make time slow down. Inspiration kept coming. The energy to create would surge in, but the ebb was horrific.
Now, I breathe. I’m still here. This has to get easier. I’ll keep creating.
How was it for you? How are you now?