small delights + little things that are actually really helping <3
moon baths, disco ball toes, daily sheet masks + the spirituality wound
hello there sweet one,
i write to you with my hair tucked awkwardly into a spa headband (white cotton terry cloth). i am wearing my gloria steinem reading glasses (a new necessity) a spaghetti strap onesie + an old oversized faded pink and blue tie-dye teeshirt. also an apron. as per usual, whilst home alone/ in my natural environment, i look psychotic. a mess. however, (thanks to some small collected miracles mentioned below) hopefully, a hot mess. i am sipping ceremonial cacao out of chipped ceramic sky blue cup. today’s brew includes, amongst other things, a sprinkling of cayenne. i think i hoped it would jolt me out of my semi catatonic state.
the vibes have been heavy. maybe she’s born with it (depressive tendencies), maybe it’s the state of the world.
the mood of the week: sad, resistant to sadness, circling the drain, dog paddling to stay afloat, shocking moments of clarity, fear of said clarity, desire to drastically reform my life, terror to do so, realization that the recurring impulse to blow up my very existence, move country, take leaps + risks + cleanse + fast + optimize + radically transform may just in fact be spiritual masochism + disorganized attachment cloaked as personal development / bravery.
i have been crying in the shower, wailing on the floor. then having a perfectly lovely afternoon. rinse, repeat. i have been inordinately exhausted. i have been dancing. all along i have been wondering… wasn’t this year supposed to be different? good? where are all the ample blessings promised under the sparkling skies of the fire horse?
the truth is: there are many blessings. blessings everywhere. here are some of them:
silver toe polish. specifically one coat of Essie 944 (gadget free) followed by two coats of Essie 3004 (set in stones). my toes are little disco balls.
pointed cabbage braised in lemon, white miso + butter, sprinkled w parm, black pepper, salt. very umami. part of a many little plates dinner.
getting outside more. groundbreaking, i know. but the agoraphobic hermit within protesteth so much. i’ve been earthing, getting morning sunshine, and, on particularly blessed days, when i don’t feel too tender, going for walks around the block, avoiding the faces of grumpy scary neighbors everywhere.
little hand rolled flower girly cigarettes. feeling french, melancholic, magical, while barefoot in the kitchen. damiana, blue lotus, lavender, etc. etc.
sheepskin + movement. sometimes soft slow lazy little somatics, sometimes deep stretches or a gentle strength sequence. the rug’s soft yummy deliciousness resources me to meet the discomfort of getting into my body, pulling up the correct video, spending 5 minutes not staring at a wall + spiraling… again.
infusions: passionflower, chamomile, rose, kava. etc. etc. nerviness + adaptogens. heart openers. caffeine replacements, sipped hot first thing every morning on an empty stomach (TCM) while i *burp* my house and shake out my beddings. i even make some to use in the shower. inquire within for details.
moon baths. in the height of my new-age spiritual girly era (armpit bushes + kundalini at 5am) my brother lovingly (?) referred to me as Patchouli Moonbath. in recent, post-pandi years, i suppose i’ve developed a bit of an aversion to the high vibe herbalist goddess circle ascension inclined baddi culture, and somehow forgot how lovely it is to bask in the moon beams, tits out, whispering softly to mama luna *helllppppp meeee*.
eating for my cycle, not in terms of restrictions but in terms of tending to myself + my female animal body with care. this week’s peak luteal menu (focused on: root veggies, greens, minerals, protein, blood sugar balance, colors, vibrant flavor, salt fat acid, saucy-ness, gut health, pleasure as nutrient) includes:
