fitful sleep last night, ankle aching, knee sore ... honestly, I think the scraped knee hurts more than the sprained ankle
picking up my love at the airport this morning. these in between phone calls and texts are not enough
breakfast and listening to his stories and loving the way that he listens to mine
hobbling to the hospital for an x-ray of this ankle which proves nothing is broken and lets just be still for a bit. the body sometime steps in and demands rest and attention
witnessing myself scramble for words to explain my work and my art and to almost defend another's woman's right to explore herself as an artist. In the moment, I couldn't find my confidence mask so the justification mask came out. ugh.
an afternoon on the couch, watching the Great British Baking Show and now all I want to do now is make cakes and pies and biscuits
and I am thinking about intuition and how I shut mine down yesterday. Grief static disturbs the messages from my inner wisdom.
I can't hear and interpret well because I filter all of it through trying to be OK and not knowing what is normal.
I think I've forgotten that my word of the year is pause. I am doing more pushing than pausing.