Go on a rejuvenating spiritual retreat.

after finding a boatload of change in the car (evidently, the other person who drives this car doesn’t believe that change counts as money!)

I’m taking it all and putting it in a special secret jar. When the jar is full, I go!

Have to think about where I want to go. It doesn’t have to be far away or some kind of snooty, forced “spa” atmosphere. Just a place in nature to recharge for a few days. (Not camping. I like camping, but it’s too much work for this purpose.)

Maybe there’s some more change in the sofa…

Sometimes, you just can’t get away to recharge, and if you really need it, you have to find another way.

I was desperately in need of escaping some of the daily crap that I’ve been buried under as of late. 2008’s fungus has left mildew on 2009 so far, and nothing will get rid of it. Well, almost nothing.

Changing my mindset helps-getting out from under the superficial materialistic bullshit that barrages me constantly. But getting there is almost impossible. You really have to have intense powers of ignoring everything that exists around you to get back to who you are. I had an epiphany of sorts last night.

I was watching the third part of the Women’s Spirituality dvds I got from Netflix. I think an important part of reaffirming my identity is to know that I’m not alone in my opinions. To blast away the dogma of everyone, and I do mean everyone, that is in my life right now, is impossible without some kind of solid footing to raise myself up with.

So now, with a new light in my heart shining for myself, I go on.
Thank you for being strong when I could not be.

...thinking about detoxing. My body is feeling sluggish, my skin is angry and dry, my hair is doing it’s own thing. I need uber hydration, less junk food, more herbal tea.

I often think about the associations of the four basic elements. We need clean air to breathe, and air represents inspiration and intellect. We need warmth to survive, and fire equals passion, whether it comes from ourselves or joins the flames of others. We live on the Earth, and when we don’t take care of Her, our health suffers too.

Then there’s water. I live in a mountain forest, and watery environments have always been an attraction for me, although they feel out of reach. Childhood summers at Cape Cod or down the Jersey Shore are some of my best memories. I’m always thrilled at finding a babbling brook in the woods. But I still have vague memories of drowning when I was four years old in a local lake. I’ve been afraid of too much water for most of my life. And of course, water equals emotions.

Once as a pre-teen, I was teased for crying at a sad movie, so I never did it again. I’ve watched my family backstab each other then talk nostalgia and how important family is. So I speak to only one family member. In becoming what I thought was strong, instead I became cold as stone. Sometimes, cold stone is easily shattered.

I find myself afraid to speak my opinions because I might look weak if I can’t defend them. After awhile, it’s easier not to have any opinions, or feelings, about anything. I feel like a note in a bottle, with ocean all around me, but unable to touch it, trying to express something in words that no one reads.

I want to go to the ocean, and jump into the waves, allowing them to wash me ashore again and again until I get all soft and pruney.

Then they’ll look at me and roll their eyes at another “emotional woman.” And I’ll smack them with a piece of driftwood.

I feel a fogginess around my heart, and last night I couldn’t sleep because I kept feeling that if I fell asleep, I wouldn’t wake up.

That kind of thing can ruin your night.

I love coming home from a vacation, because you’re not the muddied, scowling creature you were when you left. I remember the important things, and laugh off the mosquito jabs of others who are still on that hamster wheel of modern life. I wear indecent clothes, showing off bits of me that some others would mock as being too pale, too big, too bumpy, too whatever isn’t in vogue at the moment. But I don’t care, because I’m more “me” at those moments than any other moments in my life.

Walking the dog tonight, I was in awe of the stars and low flying clouds, and wished that I could stay out there all night. Why don’t I? Because I live in a rural condo community, and there are all of these city imports who freak out at anyone within 500 ft of their door after sunset. (They’re also the ones who want to shoot all the bears because they’re scared to death of them, yet they are the ones whose volume displaced the bears in the first place.)

I need nature, and breezes, and light foods. A soft bed with organic sheets and beautiful art and sculpture around me. Gentle music. Therapeutic touch. Mud to bathe in. Soy candlelight. Gardens, beaches, woodland streams.

And kind people who care who I really am.