Magic light

We have been worshiping warmth with bare arms and no coats, lifting our faces sky-wards with joy. "It feels like it's been winter forever", said my housemate, and she's right. Last summer we never even got the chance to put our winter coats away, never more than a few days of warmth between bland chill and grey skies, so this heat is a rare gift.

I lay on the trampoline last night underneath the almost-full moon and cried and cried, wrapped up and safe between housemates. People react so differently to sadness than they do to anger (and anger is always my first response when I am hurt: hiss, spit, claws, venom). Two full moons ago my world fell into a dark, angry black hole, a highly pressurized little isolation field constructed around myself to be angry and destructive in, but entirely cut off from anyone I could have hurt with my anger (my friends stood unseen outside the black hole, shouting to be let in, trying to tell me that cutting them off hurt more than raging at them). On the last full moon I was back at a shaky equilibrium, cruising forward but with that wound still raw and bleeding and real, still wounded-animal-alone. Last night I really cried for it, for the first time I think, found it in me to be sad instead of angry. Sad and resigned and mourning, with a publicly-accessible grief for special things long gone.

I find it so difficult to trust that there would be someone there for me if I lost it, so I hold it in and convert grief to rage and use the fuel of that rage to push myself onwards, to keep going & keep coping & keep living. I am hard-shelled and inaccessible in my rage and hurt. It was so alien to let people hold me last night, to be soft, to admit need. I realized that I'd forgotten how to be sad among friends.

And today is getting on with things in warm wind beneath a full moon, beginning to believe in spring and the wild, unrestrained growth of things. I sat watching movies with my laptop in my lap, exclaiming: "If I don't obsessively document my garden, something dreadful will happen!". I went over to fix a friend's computer with dirt under my nails and seed packets in my pockets. It is spring, and I have things to do.