#18 Transitions, community and spirituality
It's almost fall
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In periods of transition, we need to give ourselves time. Actually, we should always give ourselves time and patience, a lot of patience. Our bodies will fail, we will fail. The communities we belong to, our connections, and the ones we love are what will make a difference. That's why I left Edwin Kiptoo Ngetich's guest posts for last. Non-western civilizations have much to teach us if we would only listen.
"How are you doing?"
When a simple question doesn't have a quick answer.
Ask your kid to share their favorite playlist with you on a drive sometime if they’re willing. It’s incredibly personal—a step away from sharing a diary entry. It’s revealing and connective, and hey, you like the Cure too? That’s a deep cut there!
By mid-Connecticut, working our way up to the Mass Pike connection in Sturbridge, she lay her head against my right shoulder and closed her eyes.
I want to remember that.
Every Year I Swear I Forget How Fall Works
On seasons, shifts in thinking and transition armor
That face plant pretty much sums up how I deal with transitions. I kind of suck at them. My senior year of high school, I bawled to my best friend that I didn’t want to go to college because I didn’t want to make any new friends. Changing out my seasonal wardrobe gets the best of me every year, even though it literally means exchanging a box of swimsuits and shorts for a box of sweaters. Somehow in this exchange, every item I own is strewn across my closet floor for months. The first snow always finds me headed to the basement to drag out my winter boots, usually after I have managed unsuccessfully with other footwear, and I am tired of walking around in soggy tennis shoes.
Teeth
how they betray us
It’s all my fault. I am a jaw clencher, a tooth grinder. I do not gnash, I just bear down. My mandibular muscle cranks tight and my upper and lower jaws form a vice capable of exerting as much as 250 pounds of pressure on my molars while I sleep and, often, when I am awake. To my horror, I’ve caught myself doing it when I read, when I write, or pursue other activities that normally elicit joy. Kissing, for example. Various sexual acts. It’s a risky thing for all concerned.
Fajr.
A dream, dread, and a reset.
I know it’s a pendulum - we get closer and further and closer again but only if we keep trying. My Chinese Medicine Doctor has reminded me to watch out for my yang. To give it a break. Fajr is a break. Yoga is a break. Quran is a break. Not picking up my phone for a few hours is a break. Writing is a break.
Somewhere Else - Comic✨
But if not here then where?
I love the city that I live in, but I think I'm a quiet beach town gal at heart. Don't get me wrong, I'm so grateful to live in a walkable city next to a body of water, but there are days where it feels like it's impossible to hide from the noise and general hustle and bustle.
Harambee, a way of gratitude, Guest Post by Edwin Kiptoo Ngetich
In Kenya when trouble visits you, you will not walk alone
So, here is the deal, just know while in Africa, especially Kenya, be assured that when trouble visits you, you will not walk alone. Harambee is an unwritten will of generosity among Kenyans and you don't need to be rich or intelligent to extend your hand of support. You only need to care.
Before you go…
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See you next time! :)
Thank you for sharing @Edwin Kiptoo Ngetich's inspiring post about harambee.
Thank you so much for sharing my comic! <3