The weather is changing. The weather here in Chicago is much different from the Bay Area. The cold actually surprised me. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt real cold. This is the beginning of the cold that bites your cheeks, making you run for the covers and some hot chocolate. The cold also brings back body memories from when I lived in New Hampshire and the Northeast. Like the smell of tobacco reminds me of my grandfather, the cold reminds me of growing up, among other things. The shorter days makes me want to hibernate, but I know
When I write about not being abusive to allies, I get told that I’m oppressing the marginalized and that allies should just sit down and shut up. And I wonder: when did verbal abuse in social justice become ok? When I write about not shaming those who can’t march, or call, or who can’t speak out because doing these things are not possible, or could put them in danger, I get told that my/their silence is assent. And I wonder: when did shaming and ableism in social justice become ok? When I write about the elephants in the social justice
Most of you know by now that the wife and I are moving to the Chicago area in March. There’s a lot of feelings around this move for me: excitement, fear, stress, wonder, and grief. It’ll be sad to leave the Bay Area as we’ve both lived here for over 10 years, built a witchcraft tradition, and made many many wonderful friends. That is definitely the hardest part about this move. But we’ve also both realized that it’s time for change. We’ve both been a bit stuck creatively, and this will give us a chance to start some things over
I have never been a good scholar. Oh, sure, I’ve written scholarly essays that gave me the grades I needed to pass the classes that I was in, but when it comes to scholarly concepts (especially when it comes to the human condition), I fail. I fail at getting the words right. I fail at being the person that the other social justice scholars think I should be. I even tried writing a book that talked about all of these concepts of privilege, oppression, intersectionality, and all of the other concepts that I’m supposed to know as an educated feminist.
Most of my life I’ve had a hard time feeling worthy of any praise or positions I’ve gotten. I think a lot of that intersects with imposter syndrome too: I could do the thing, but then people will find out I’m a fake and I’m not worthy of their praise or accolades. Also, there is a part of me that can get jealous of others when they get accolades for something I feel I’ve worked just as hard to do. This was especially true of my undergraduate college days. I did a lot of hard work, and learned a lot
I’ve just realized that I’m over halfway done with my Lenten working. On Tuesday I started the Jesus part of my working, and so far it’s been good. What I’m realizing, though, is that Jesus and I don’t know each other quite as well as we used to. What I mean by that is that while I’ve had a relationship with the spirit of Jesus, it’s been more as an acquaintance rather than a close relationship like I have with The Dagda and Hecate. I realized that this morning at the beginning of my morning meditation, and so instead of
Reflecting on the 4th week of Lent where I’m still in the Dagda part of my working, I realize I’ve done quite a bit. I’ve “normalized” my work day and have gotten more written on my book this week than I have in several months. I cooked a lot, and have a lovely visit with my friend River and her little one on Thursday. I created a booklet of the prayers I need for the next phase of my working and shared that with those who I thought would be interested. I called the gardener and had them come sort
It’s a new year, and there are many posts and memes about New Year’s Resolutions going around. I tend not to bother with resolutions because, when I make them, I end up feeling bad if I break them. I have enough of my own anxiety that I don’t need to add more on top of it. Instead of resolutions, I like to think about projects and goals for the new year. The first project this year is to finish a book. I realized the other night that I actually have two books in the works: one on radical inclusion for