This letter will be brief. The sun is out, the Magpies are cawing, keeping me company in the days that have felt endlessly lonely lately.
I often get seasonal depression in winter no matter what is going on, I think I only remember one winter where I was kind of ok, and it was one I spent living outside in California through a winter where the sun shone most days, I got to swim a lot still, and I had a solid and interesting romantic partnership that I felt safe in, at least at that time of it. Main thing was being in nature a lot.
I recently have been dealing with some health stuff, and I’m realizing it is a bigger trend that I had initially thought before. I think this health stuff is directly related to unresolved grief, the stress of capitalism, and the lonlieness of nuclear-family-unit-living without friends around kind of depression. I lived that way in the past, on land with friends, and I’ve been trying to get back there ever since. Any ‘winter' depression I’ve ever had, what bothers me the most is the isolation I felt during that time. Every time. So is it really the winter, or the society we live in? Always questions I ask about disconnect.
The other night I laid in bed, feverish, wishing for someone to take care of me, and to be emotionally comforted, and I didn’t get that or have that, and I remind myself that ultimately we only have ourselves in the end. I guess though, Aren’t we supposed to be there for one anothers’ birth and death? Do we really have to die alone?
The sickness’ I have have had coming up are direction reflections for me of energetic violations I have been feeling in visceral real ways in my life, and are mirrors from energetic and physical violations I felt as a child. I can get sick from simply being around someone who is an energetic vampire, and usually it is someone close to me who I have heart strings woven with, the people who have the ability to hurt me the most.
I have been stranded for over 10 days now at my yurt, because of my drive shaft being shot and not easy to replace— and about to take off to sunnier skies and the deeper desert for a bit, what has become a yearly pilgrimage to the Yerba Mansa, the Ocotillo, Saguaros and Cholla lands in so-called Arizona. I’ve got river spots where I pray, trails I walk, hot springs where I dip, friends I visit. Canyons I venture into. I’m ready for it and need it.
Often about this time, before Imbolc hits (and my birthday.. 37 this year), I am at a wall, where I can’t take the isolation and quiet of winter anymore. I felt like this winter I was doing pretty good for awhile, reveling in the time to do art, write, work on my crafts, focus on hide tanning and natural dyes. A combination of personal life stuff, a week of cloudy weather and extreme cold, my truck breaking (again) and not seeing friends for awhile, kind of unraveled me, and then my health plummeted in the midst.
It’s a time to be in the muck, but also if our boundaries are not respected, and we have to continue to put that Yarrow gate up that gets crashed upon as my friend says, we will get sick. All of it is connected, and our emotional body is not separate from any other part of it. Though we may want to believe there is no connection, we still have to remind ourselves that the same line of thinking that tells us a tree does not feel, is not alive, nor has intelligence of any kind, is the same line of thinking that informs us that our emotions have nothing to do with our greater health, or vice versa. Or, that our spiritual state is not connected to our physical incarnated bodies, our sacred vessels.
Why is it I wonder, that we carry on the vessels of trauma from one generation to the next, like spirits that need a place to live, and latch onto us. I’ve asked myself many times why I am not resilient to the stuff that happens around me or to me, enough to not get sick from it. At the same time, I’ve been told to ‘toughen up’ in relationship to trauma or sensitivity, and yet, if I said the same to others, wouldn’t they feel this was a violation? This discouraging of others to feel, telling them it takes up too much space, is the exact thing that keeps the spirits incarnated through us, generation to the next, intergenerational trauma.
Open hearted with strong boundaries. Yarrow, Pulsatilla, Ghost Pipe. You bet these botanical beings are around me. This lesson I learn over and over.
What do you do when you realize your health is related to violated boundaries energetically, emotionally, physically? I’m not sure. Make hard choices, because often there is no reasoning or compromise, only boundaries can make clear what is ok and not.
I also saw recently someone say, that boundaries are ultimately not someone else’s responsibility. We set them for ourselves, and it is up to us to act and follow through on what we set for ourselves if a boundary is not respected. We cannot control what happens to us or what other people will do. But we can control how we respond, or try prevent it from happening in the future. We still cannot keep all harm out. We can learn and protect, and stay open but protect, learn and go forth bravely. I realize I have been both brave and not brave in life. Often held back by wanting the right company in my ideas and projects, and yet I’ll keep living not doing them if I keep waiting for the right collaborations or companions. I also have avoided pain instead of feeling it, but also dove deeply into it and suffered immensely instead of avoiding. Why touch a hot stove if it was hot the last time you touched it? Safety is an interesting thing.
I asked myself this morning as I cried over tea on my north facing deck, watching the sun rise, why am I afraid of being alone? I’ve been alone many times, and yeah often it has sucked. And also, at the end of the day, I KNOW people love me. Lots do. Go where people love me. Be brave in believing what people say and resilient when their minds change. Love despite being pushed away. This is all hard stuff.
Be brave in self-advocation. This is hard stuff too.
That’s all I’m going to say now, as I recover from sick bed, having to take antibiotics, and take my time getting ready to leave instead of a frantic madhouse type of prep energy. I’m slowing down and doing one thing at a time. Next is to finish my curtains for my truck bed. They’re funky and made of random recycled fabrics, thrifted or gleaned from old garments. Thats my way usually.
Next time I write will probably be from the Sonoran desert.
Oh yeah, I posted it up there as a little link on my ‘birthday,’ but I’m doing a birthday fundraiser for the Ground Shots Podcast, if your interested in being of support to a project with over 80 episodes, I’ve ran since 2018. You saw the cost breakdown post maybe and if you haven’t its in the archives from this last month. We’re halfway there and my birthday is this coming weekend. If you’re interested in helping contribute to the goal, go here.
I feel you, this winter is hitting me hard too. I really appreciate your podcast. It has been my company during this quite lonely year. Thanks for bringing it into the world!