I woke up this morning and felt the now-familiar pressure in my chest slowly dissipate as I gained consciousness. I have been carrying around a weight. I am learning to make peace with its uncomfortable ever-presence. I’m learning to love my struggle, accepting the familiar coolness and texture of the walls I smash into over and over, choosing to not close my eyes or turn away, but rather to allow myself to face what is. In this endeavour, I feel the gratitude of surrender. I am learning to let go and let god.
Here’s what’s new and good in my world:
I hide myself from the people that I love, but most heartbreakingly, I hide myself from myself. I imagine that a surprising number of your know exactly what I’m talking about, familiar in your own ways with the act of averting your eyes from your own soul. It’s kind of a bummer, if you think about it, but a pretty human thing. Anyways….setting an intention to do something new, something different. I invite you to join me if you feel called.
It is by slowly simmering in a sauce of pain, shame, dysregulation and distress, that we become tenderer meats. It is here I find myself now, remembering my grandmother’s love of cold-cuts, and the refrigerated room at JJ Family Plus Spa in Coquitlam where I—without fail—make a joke about feeling like a prosciutto cotto.
I facilitated a fence-weaving workshop at Clinton Park with dear friend and mentor Sharon Kallis from EartHand Gleaner’s Society who has been the most gracious, generous and kind friend a basic-bisexual-bitch-baby-artist-and-facilitator could ever dream of. I had the most wonderful time, we made a beautiful hand woven garden fence, and I got to spend 8 hours in the sun, touching plants, and talking to people about the things they think and feel. I am truly and consistently humbled by what people trust me with.
I think I’m going to start going to church again. I welcome any recommendations you have. I grew up in the Romanian-Orthodox church but am pretty open to anyone practicing decency, hope, respect and kindness through Christian teachings. I’m pretty curious about contemplative traditions and would love a buddy-in-Christ. A pal in the experience of surrendering to god? Is that a thing? I bet it is.
I sent a somewhat terrifying email asking for something I want, and I’m seeing my needs through. No matter what happens next, I’ve done right by me.
I asked the guy I’m dating to better meet a need that I have in a kind, direct and clear way and his response was thoughtful, generous and considered. And then—crazy truly wild shit, you guys—he actually followed through and the needle started to move.
My dear friend Emma said that I should consider ‘going there’ and I did, and now here I am.
I volunteer at a local clinic and there is an elderly couple that come in every Wednesday and every Wednesday the wife and I have these amazing conversations about all kinds of wild shit from technology to the police to immigration to being a counsellor, to what is enshrined in the human rights code, to getting scammed on the phone. And every Wednesday she says ‘god bless you’ because I help her husband put his shoes and socks back on after his treatment. They are a gift to this world and so is the clinic and so are you and so am I. Weird quirky perfectly imperfect gifts.
You can tell how hot it is in the house by the length of the cats you cat-sit.
I’ve started a meditation practice using this app and I’m benefiting from the time and the calm and I don’t really care if anyone rolls their eyes at the fact that I sit in silence for 20 minutes mostly every day gently petting the hamster in my brain and feeding him dandelions and mealworms while whispering “shhhh buddy, you’re doing a great job” or watching the clouds float casually across the sky.
I went to an interview last week and I have another next week. Think of me being articulate and charming on Tuesday at 4:30, ok?
I am alive, and you are alive and an old friend mailed me buttons I made back in the year of our lord two-thousand-and-eight, and my god, so much living has happened since then.
The passing of time—what a fucking gift, hey?
Here we all are; all of this is living.
With all the love a cured-meat-person could possibly bestow,
xo Ada
Ps. Can I get a show of hands in the comments or by reply to the email of folks who have consistent spiritual practices of some kind that are shared or done in a group? You don’t have to say what kind or elaborate in any way if you don’t want to—just trying to make sense of who else is grappling right now.