“I never thought of detox as a sacred time,” Ming said. He’d just read my blog post about detox and the Las Vegas Radical Mental Health Collective dance party.
“Yeah, I think it is,” I said. “Doing something different, for a good reason. Kind of like being pregnant. There could be suffering, but it has a beautiful goal to it.”
Ming agreed. Also it’s liminal–I think liminal time is usually sacred time. You could honor the difficulty. Why not–if you have to struggle, you might as well acknowledge and get spiritual transformation out of it.
text for asking someone to leave
When we were getting ready for the Las Vegas Radical Mental Health Collective dance party, I said we should bring the banner. So Ming found all the old materials from when we met in person. Our last in person meeting was March 2020, right before pandemic was getting ridiculous.
I looked at the clipboard and laughed and laughed, to see what I’d taped there, with blue tape.
Yes, thank you, Laura-Marie of the past. I can make observations, have the insight, connect the dots, make the choice to set a boundary, and feel willing to enforce the boundary.
But language to enforce the boundary can be lacking. So I laughed with delight, at how I left language on the clipboard, to prepare for enforcing a boundary, back then.
Season changing to fall feels like a great time to enforce boundaries. I said some summer yes–now I say some autumn no, as I pull deeper into myself. Hunkering down for winter, I’m more alive to my own needs than the needs of others.
I’m not a crone yet, but I hear friends my age say how they’re less up for nurturing others. Maybe I’m headed toward that sacred time. My tits are less generally available.
I woke up with this Kimmortal song in my head–maybe the 88 referred to is the age the the speaker would like to live to, “till we roll with angels.” But I’m not sure. I like “queer like the water–resilient through trauma” and relate.