Saturday

This has been a rough week, loss all around, on every level, while the underlying energy churns, unsettled and vulnerable people are thrown off kilter. Some clients feel like balloons trying to drift off away from the Earth, and the only thing holding them here is as fragile and tenuous as a string wrapped around my wrist. I try to plant my feet, feel my roots extending into the earth, make sure that too many souls tugging skyward don't lift me off the ground. I think of a phrase my dad used when dementia was stealing his words, "down to the nothing," - for him it meant naked, as in the doctor having him undress "down to the nothing." For me though, it describes the stripping away of my inner layers, like the loss of a planet's gaseous envelope, its life-sustaining atmosphere, leaving a rocky barren world exposed to harsh interstellar radiation. I'm grateful today is Saturday and I could spend the day in bed in a pile of cats, bathing in their soft, sleepy breathing and healing purrs. I had to venture out into the world to shovel snow, but it was slushy and there wasn't that much, so I just threw on my coat over my pajamas. Tomorrow I have to be back at it, with all kind of things flying at me, catching the ones I can catch, and piecing together the ones that crash and break at my feet.