383 things

 During Covidity, I began a course with Katie Phillips - her Daring and Mighty Mastermind. As part of the course work, I mad a list of 383 things/activities that bring me much joy. Some are below.  

Dancing barefoot in my kitchen

Climbing trees

Reading crappy romance novels

Reading crappy mysteries

Reading poetry

Writing bad poetry 

Watching favourite films

Doodling

Painting

Drawing

Jumping Rope

Sleepovers

Meandering

Backroads

taking the long way

Napping

Travel

Crochet

Sewing 

Organising (my books, clothes, lingerie, buttons)

Having a good cry

Eating ice cream for dinner.

Most of these things, I can do on my own. I can also do them with other people, should I choose. Sometimes, I do. I need to remember that this list exists and to incorporate it into my healing, make it integral. Note to self, etc. The only person (other than my littles) who needs my time is me.  It would be very easy to lose myself down the rabbit hole right now, as raw as I still am with the relieved grief of this new found landscape. SO easy to just not feel, just be.  But that is not what this time is about, is it? 

I was a Junior in University when I discovered Julian of Norwich's work in an English Literature survey class. It coincided with my decision resume studying for an orthodox conversion  Judaism (I had grown up haphazardly, awkwardly not really Reform).  Her work resonated with me and I made a silent pact that I would one day visit her cell, listen to her silence. It never really occured to me until today, when I did just that - sat in the silence of her cell, jolted - petrified, even - that I had honoured my pact with my selves. 

God, Source, the Universe - what ever that thing that has made us, loves us. And looks after us, more than we can ever do just in ourselves. So easy to forget, in  frenetic haste and occasional heartbreaks. So easy to forget.