Hello dear ones,

Welcome back. Taking a breath of gratitude, here and now, for these eyes and fingers that are tapping away.

We return this week to find 2022-Rebecca after a second wildfire breaks out — not even two months after the first.

Whether you’re in a too much/too fast/too soon season or in another texture entirely, I send a spacious mossy haven for you to rest your head.

Rooting for you,
Rebecca

[This is part 14 of an ongoing series: the Root Living Journals. You can find part 1 here.

Note: In these entries there is mention of covid. I now have a very different perspective than 2022-Rebecca, after receiving new information about vaccines/virology, learning contagion ‘theory’ has been disproven, and finding Terrain Medicine. That is its own nuanced journey, which I’ll share about in time. But for now, I’d be remiss not to point out the fear expressed in entries below is no longer with me.]

Week of June 14 [Loam 10% Post]

We walk towards the cafe doors after a morning of errands—picking up things Evan forgot to grab when he was evacuated Monday morning: phone charger, cat food, cat toy.

I’m relieved at the sight of empty 2-person tables lining a wrap-around patio. It will be great to sit outside, especially after the morning.

When I’d parked at the library—our first stop—Evan received a text from his family that they decided to put down the family dog that day.

He cried and felt and let it all sink in for a few minutes. Then he said he needed to move and keep busy, so into the library we went.

At the pet store I went in with him for support, imagining it would be hard to walk past dogs and dog-things in this moment. I noticed how stimulated and drained I felt during those 4 minutes. All of the colors, toys, treats, groomers. I hadn’t realized I was getting to that point.

Because of that noticing, I said “I’m going to stay in the car” when I parked at Best Buy for the charging cord. I knew being in that space would deplete too much energy. 10% shift.

Then one more stop at the grocery store whose layout scrambles me before we headed back towards the hotel, to this cafe.

There are owls everywhere. Owl statues on the window ledges, owl paintings and latch hooks hanging on the walls, owl chandeliers above our heads.

The waitress grabs two menus and is about to lead us to tables inside when Evan asks, “Can we eat outside?”

“The patio is closed today because of smoke from the fire” she said.

Wham.

I can feel panic arising in my body as she leads us into the dining area. But covid. But privacy. There are only five occupied tables in the huge dining room, but they’re all in the back corner.

I’m horrified at how loud everyone’s voices sound to my ears. She gives us an option between two open tables in that area: one in the corner facing a window, and one along the wall at a window, which we’re in front of.

My body is still trying to process the phrase “the patio is closed,” but my mind does a quick size-up and decides the corner table is the least of two evils. At that same second, Evan tells her “This one is good.” She places menus down at the wall table, and I feel another jab to my tender body, which is unable to speak in this moment. Unable to ask for what I need. If I say anything, the kettle will boil over. I cannot explain what I’m experiencing right now, and that knowing triggers all the pain cycles. I hadn’t realized my energies were such that I couldn’t do a restaurant right now.

We sit down at the table next to the loud men. The music blasts my ears. The women to our left are talking about the fire and I don’t want to think about the fire. My throat is tight and I can feel the tears welling. I feel trapped. All my energy is going towards not bursting.

This lunch is going to be so painful. We have this precious time together thanks to fire admin leave—so rare to be out together during the day since our work weekends do not align—and I won’t be able to enjoy his presence because I am not here.

Evan is saying something to me right now, holding my hands gently across the table, and I’m not sure what he’s said. Why are the sounds too much, why can’t I enjoy a simple lunch out, he’s grieving his dog while evacuated from his home due to wildfire and I’m about to have a breakdown like the Home Depot breakdown two months ago because right now the sounds, the people, the colors, this whole scene is too much?

The waitress is back and takes our order. Before she leaves I almost ask if there’s any way we can sit outside. I’ll come in to grab the food, I’ll clear and wash the table. I’m desperate.

I almost ask. But I cannot. I can’t get the words out; I’m too raw. As soon as I open my mouth I know I’ll cry hard. I’m too exposed in here, people a table away. Can’t ask the waitress, can’t tell Evan what I’m experiencing. The tea pot must whistle but all the steam is trapped and building.

Tell me a story.

These are the words that come to my mind, but I cannot yet speak. Maybe a story will help ground me back.

Tell me a story.

The thought flashes again, while I’m bombarded by everything, trying to keep the steam in, ashamed that I can’t even explain what’s happening, feeling isolated. The pot is going to burst.

Evan is commenting on all the owl artwork and chandeliers around. Now he’s telling me about a chandelier his family used to have, and how he’d always have to be the one to clean it because he was the tallest. He’s telling me a story.

I notice the gift and magic in this, and also, it’s not bringing me down. The pressure keeps building. I can only hear the voices around me and feel the panic rising, the self-judgment, the shame that I can’t simply have a lunch at a cool cafe with this sweet man. I search for an escape; can’t hold it in much longer.

“I need to go outside for a minute,” I muster, as I stand up.

“There’s a door behind you,” Evan says. I look behind and see a door going to the patio that isn’t open. Will the door be locked? Behind I see restroom doors, and go there instead.

I cry for a minute in a stall, and notice all the pressure I’m creating and feeling. There is much guilt and judgment; how pathetic that my system short-circuits like this. Who will want to partner with someone who has to monitor and control all the sensory inputs, whose capacities change by the minute, only knowable by her internal experience. Tears fall and fall. I’m back in the low times of February, March, April.

Then I think of Judith Blackstone and the new techniques I’m learning. I can try to let the sounds reach me and pass through me. I can try to feel the space in the center of my head, the point between my ears.

I return to the table. He puts out his hands again and takes mine. The men behind us finish and leave. I’m still overstimulated and raw, but the pressure isn’t threatening to shatter the kettle. The sounds feel 5% less intense.

Our food arrives and I see another grounding tool: search for flavors. What’s in the tomato jam? What hints can I taste?

Gradually I’m able to listen and somewhat be with. A few more folks leave their tables and the noise softens. We eat and chat and enjoy the tastes.

After we pay and leave, outside, I say: “Can we walk for a second? I want to tell you what I experienced when we first went in.”

I share. My throat tightens.

He listens. His compassion holds.

Another 10%, going ahead with my sharing amid his dog grief + evacuation.

Words still fall short, and that gap between my inner experience and what’s seen on the outside feels painful as ever. And yet there are tiny shifts.

Spring Poem [Loam]

Self-accepting & loving,
as a devotion,
My spiritual sensitivity
 & tender emotions.

Resourcing others
becoming assertive & bold.
Widening latitude,
growing capacity to hold.

Deepening my roots,
I can see this is true:
I’m held by my higher self
and together we hold you.

You, child Rebecca,
we see, we love, we hear.
We welcome all of you,
your guilt, your joy, your fear.

The first and third fires
disrupted my system.
Rose high to meet the flames,
felt panic, gained wisdom.

The first snapped me out
from the low lows.
There’s a world outside mine,
community arose.

Relationships are gold, they say,
but oh to deeply feel
How equipment can be replaced,
time goes on without our Stihls.

The smoke and the heat
made everything intense:
My shadows, my fears,
my nervous system can Sense.

The fires sparked incidents
with the 450 and clutch.
Body nauseous beyond nauseous,
yet led me back in touch:

Remembering the healing rhythm
of moving my feet.
Ten minutes or three hours,
my power loves this beat.

Sending mail again
after the dark time without.
Among envelopes and stamps
I feel my light sprout.

Ripping sheets into strips
then weaving a rug.
These textures and colors
pull me in with a tug.

Hearing music call my name
to listen, to make.
“I have seen how it ends”
my pleasure is awake.

Watering the garden
in the evening air,
I am a plant mama
grateful to give my care.

Sitting in a circle
with women face-to-face
Inspired no more bras,
we love the breathing space.

Unwinding co-dependency
a strand at a time.
I will no longer shapeshift
to put your comfort over mine.

Cutting the cord that bound me
after a year of wanting more.
Those eyes I gave my power to
can no longer rock my core.

Beginning a deep love,
naturally and intentionally slow.
Grown from spirit & trust,
hey hey, let it flow.

Strengthening my nervous system slowly
with capsules, Loam, & plants.
It’s here we meet his energy,
from our grounded stance.

Short-circuiting less often,
but felt too much at the owl café.
He saw my shame and overwhelm,
It’s okay, it’s all okay.

This love is magical, little one,
bigger than you ever knew
—and still
I’m held by my higher self and
together we hold you.

Together we hold you.

June 16, 2022
Evan just messaged about Bill calling him saying he could potentially move home today. When he said Kira and Kai are going up to check utilities, I felt a pang of sadness, of grief, of feeling left out. 

She’s his little assistant and buddy now, and I’m a lone ranger trying to manage my energy. It’s because of how raw and tired I am now after last night’s nausea. 

I’m continually surprised and ashamed at how much envy / left-outedness there is for me here. Fomo of the learning? The safety? The fun? Why so much envy when now Evan and I look out for one another?

One story five ways:

1. Kai will always work with Kira and I won’t get to learn much more from him this summer.

2. Kai and Kira work well together because they are good friends. Both can still have friendships with me.

3. People are afraid to approach me when they think I'm in a mood, so I work by myself.

4. Kira is not at ease around me, and she much prefers to work with Kai. I can feel this, which feels unwelcoming.

5. I can celebrate Kira and Kai’s friendship, my work friendship with Kai, and my partnership with Evan.

Feeling the sensations matters more than knowing the why-story behind them, just stay with them. A lot has happened since Sunday, and my body is tired.

I’m proud of calling in to work on Tuesday and Thursday; that still takes more energy than I’d like. I don’t even know if it’s sunk in – I’m kind of frozen – like, the fire and evacs again. I wrote a little about Sunday and my Tuesday Owl meltdown on the Loam, which must help processing. I’m noticing it’s hard to explain my experiences to Evan, and that I have more self-judgement/shame when being witnessed in that way. If it’s just me, I can be with my feelings compassionately. Going to do a meditation now to get in touch with softness.

June 28, 2022 Tuesday
Yesterday at lunch, I wasn’t following the conversation… Annie was saying how many people lived in her house, and Kira was surprised one of them was her boyfriend. 

“Kai isn’t my roommate,” Kira said to Annie, and my whole body froze in shock.

Did she really just say that? No, it couldn’t be.

Part of me is still grieving the friendship and lack of intimacy. I envy Kira’s comfort around him and how often she talks about him. And how she gets to meet the grandpa, will she be at the rodeo with his daughter? 

Why did Kai only mention his daughter to me when I asked about his week off, but then at lunch Kira goes on and on about their rodeo weekend together?

And I keep making mental gymnastics of it – if they were romantically involved, she wouldn’t talk about him so much in front of everyone on crew, the age difference is too big, etc. Their business is their business. My feelings about it is my business.

Divine helping spirits, help me to accept Kira and Kai as they are, not as I want them to be. Help me meet our interactions with presence, kindness, and love. Help me to uncord from Kai and become rooted in my own strength and self-love.

July 2, 2022 [Loam 10% Post]

On Thursday, at the start of my 7th session with my “new” therapist/energy healer, I asked (10% - asking for what I need!) where we were on the trajectory of us meeting together, and shared that I felt there was movement—I could feel an arc—and wanted to move into energy healing sessions instead of just talk therapy. (Also true but unexpressed: I was feeling uneasy with the open-ended weekly meetings at this level of $ investment, and wanted a container.)

She shared that she felt we were just landing together, and building the foundation to go deep together. I felt physical sensations of shame, that I had thought we could wrap up in the next couple of weeks (more a mental $ concern; I have the $), but in her mind we were just starting. I experienced this more as a witness, not attaching anything to it.

We had an energy session that day and she sent me two meditations, which is what I want to be practicing/learning/experiencing with her. I compared this to two months ago, how hard it was (how sweaty!) to express to my last therapist that I wasn’t vibing with her and wanted to end our sessions. I’m very proud of what I expressed at the start of our session today, even if it wasn’t the most assertive wording, and even though my body felt internally “wrong” for having had a different opinion. 

[In every 10%, there are moments where I do not have capacity to make the change. During our session, I was back-of-mind worried a fire crew would come and tell me to move, that they were going to cut near where I was lying on the ground, or that someone would come to work on the bridge near me, and I’d be distracted by the sound. A storm came in near the end of our session, and I did not express that I could feel strong winds and drops were starting to fall—that maybe I should move back to the work truck. I didn’t want to interrupt.]

***

At the end of the work day on Thursday, I had to leave early to my home Park, to put up a stop sign that had been stolen before the holiday weekend began. Since I wasn’t around the others for the last two hours, I didn’t have a chance to make sure someone cleaned Kee’s apartment before the new arrival moved in on Friday. Had Alec lined this out?

On Friday morning, my weekend, upon waking I thought about texting Evan to make sure he or Bobby was going to clean the apartment. For all I knew, since I wasn’t there to button things up at the end of the day, the front door might have still been wide open and unlocked, with that light still on. Then I remembered how I’m trying to do less at work, take a step back, release control, be okay with less efficiency & quality — because these details don’t matter. And because I want that energy for my personal life and night school in the fall; I can't get drained each work day. I must make changes.

My body is still safe if things aren't done as well; it just needs to learn it’s safe. So I chose not to double check, not to communicate something I knew needed to be done. That was my 10%. It’s not on me. I will still get paid if I do less of this unseen thinking & communicating. I’ll always see these little details, but that doesn’t mean it’s my responsibility.

[Epilogue: When our administrator checked in my new housemate on Friday, she mentioned that the person who was supposed to move into Kee’s apartment called and wouldn’t be able to move in until Tuesday. When I got to Evan’s on Friday afternoon, he told me Bobby had cleaned the apartment early in the morning. It was all taken care of without my coordination. And if it hadn’t been taken care of, time would have continued, the sun would rise and fall, everyone safe.]

***

In a phone call with an awesome fertility awareness educator I'm now working with, she said she would email me a PDF for her method of fertility charting. 

“Do you have access to a printer?” she asked.

“Yeeeah,” I said hesitantly, imagining driving back to the library—where I was currently sitting for phone service—getting the file on a library computer, printing to the machine, having quarters to pay … or sneaking over into the maintenance office on the weekend and printing a page from the work computer.

“I can mail you hard copies if that’s easier” she said. I almost said no, only because I felt that would be a hassle for her. 

But receiving hard copies in the mail box would be WAY easier for me. This is what I ask my car insurance to do when I get new cards on the 6-month renewal. (Also, she offered! It's only up to her to manage HER energy and capabilities. It's only up to me to manage MY energy and capabilities with boundaries. I need to trust that when people offer, they've taken their energy into account. It's not my responsibility to manage their energy and boundaries.)  

“Yes, let's do hard copies in the mail” I said. This was my 10%. Asking for what I needed, while releasing control of her feelings about it.

July 5, 2022 [Loam 10% Post]

Sunday evening I started to feel a bit ill, so I immediately went to sleep – what my body needs, a good night's sleep. It's my first night with a new housemate, Marie. I put in ear plugs, as I do most nights when housemates are home.

Monday, the holiday, I'm awoken at 5:18am by a man's voice. Is it the radio? A podcast? Why is she listening to stuff so loudly this early in the morning?! 

I feel a groan, internal tension – I don't like being the person who needs it quieter. I don't want her to think I'm mean first-thing; we are strangers. I grab my ear plugs that had fallen out during the night and put them in; maybe this will block the sound. I can still hear the voice loudly through the ear plugs, no way I'm falling back asleep.

And the 10%: I get up, leave my room, and stand at the doorway of her bedroom – whose door is wide open, podcast playing loudly.

"Hi, can you put in headphones or turn it down?" I say, half asleep.

"Oh, you can hear that?" she asks, surprised.

"Yes." (Of course! It's so loud! These walls are so thin! Our rooms are so close!)

"Okay, sorry," she says, hitting pause, and I turn around and return to bed. I'm unable to fall back asleep, but know that although I felt half-asleep, this action was a big step towards becoming more assertive. I asked for what I needed, while releasing control of how she would interpret it.

In this case it was being half-asleep that helped me, yet expressing my need – for her to turn down the podcast – was huge.

July 7, 2022
Going to journal a bit while I’m reunited with my spirit and energy post-Caroline’s session. She recommended a book about subtle energy, which I ordered on ThriftBooks.

We talked at the start about my non-reactivity with Kira and Kai on Tuesday, and feeling okay with Bill being back. She checked-in about Evan, and I said it’s going very well.

She said connecting with my life force is a good exercise for mornings and end-of-days. I’m excited, like I have found the teacher who is showing me what I want to learn – how to sense subtle energy and shift it, in earthy way. I’m learning: energy, reproductive body, HVAC!

July 17, 2022
I’m staring at my new wall of a nearly finished photo collage, and it feels great to receive the energy of these faces. So glad I asked Loam friends to send me a picture of them, and ordered prints.

Two days since I’ve returned home from the strange 10-day hotel stint with Marie (the park put us up) while our housemate Tom had covid. I love being in this energy. (Also had home to myself both days which was INCREDIBLE.)

My dream is to feel as relaxed on a Monday morning with Bill as I do on a Friday morning or Wednesday morning without Bill. My body braces and I want freedom to know I’m held and safe no matter my work assignment / involvement in work planning.

7/23/22 [Loam 10% Post]

Monday morning, I was working in the back room of the Remodel Room with Evan. I had The Chicks playing at a calm volume where we were scraping the mud mixer. I am safe with my Love.

Suddenly, the Younger Gal bursts through the front-room door with music blaring from Kai's stereo. She sets it down in the front room and Kai comes in back. Now I can hear her blasting music clashing with the faint music from my stereo sitting right next to me. These sounds are draining me. I could feel her energy – up, up, up – taking names and throwing punches. It felt like I'd been energetically kicked in the face. 

I couldn't make speech, couldn't say "I have music on already, can you please turn that off." or "That's too loud for me, Kira – I already have music playing back here and I can't hear it anymore," even with all my practice in assertiveness these past few months.

I turn off my stereo in defeat and retreat, saying to Kai and Evan "I can't think with two different musics going." I feel so scrambled, as if it were the end of a draining work day; my energy isn't usually this thin & easily depleted this early in the morning.

Next thing I know, Kai and Evan – my safe people – are leaving at the same time to go look at Evan’s mini-split. I feel trapped and unsafe.

Now it's just me, Kira, Kira’s music, and sweet Cameron. I do not feel included. I do not feel seen. I do not feel safe. I am going to break down.

I leave the room, walk down the hall and go into the custodial closet. I leave the lights off, sit down, and burst out crying. Deep sobs. It has been months since I've had one of these short-circuits with Kira’s energy at work. 

I accept it, cry, know that I couldn't explain in words to any of these coworkers what's happening and why – which sparks a bit of my pain cycle – but I know this is happening and can see it as it's happening. 

Part of me is in disbelief that all these months later, after all my inner child work, therapy, and energy work with new therapist/energy healer, I'm still having such a strong reaction today. This is SO exhausting! I never know when the next punch from her will come.

And then I return to my breath, close my eyes, and picture my meditation sanctuary. My new practices with my energy healer/therapist are coming into play. I spend several minutes grounding. When I feel a bit more settled, I return to the Remodel Room.

I work on my own, but feel the tears are still near. When I leave to refill my water bottle up at the shop a few minutes later, I decide to walk down to Evan’s apartment. 

I think: I'm the one starting HVAC school in a month, I'll be the one fixing mini-splits in the future… I want to learn what they're doing with Evan’s mini-splits.

And so I put my needs ahead of the needs of others (will Kira/Cameron think I abandoned them in the Remodel Room? Will Kai wonder why / be bothered that I've joined them?) and enter Evan’s apartment. I spend the next chunk of time in safe presences, learning about things I'm interested in, taking apart the pumps in Evan’s mini-splits.

***

Before my (colder, male, hard-to-approach) supervisor Bill left for a 2-week vacation near the end of June, I had a 10% moment and expressed to him my concerns about working with Ricardo on the concrete project. He listened and I left the conversation with the understanding that I would still work with Ricardo, and if there were further issues, I'd let Bill know.

But then the second wildfire happened, and the entire maintenance and trail crews were reporting to Pinyon. There were more than enough trails folks to help with the concrete project. I got pulled into other projects – gladly helping Bry with the trenches and plumbing for the fire suppression at Crater, and last week we finally got back into the Remodel Room. I helped at all of the concrete pours, but I was not working on removing asphalt / building forms with Ricardo between pour days.

Kai texted me on Wednesday to give me a head's up that Bill had asked him why I was working on the Remodel Room project instead of concrete. Kai said that it was because Ricardo is so disorganized. Bill said he'd put me on that project specifically for that reason – because Ricardo’s so disorganized but I'm organized. (per our conversation before his vacation)

Cringe. I wish Kai hadn't given that reason! He didn't know about our conversation, or how I got started on other projects in the first place. Now it looked like I was openly defiant to Bill, and had chosen on my own to avoid working with Ricardo. I started to feel nauseous. 

This is the strongest somatic reaction I have, anxiety about getting into trouble or being confronted by Bill. It's a reaction that comes on so quickly and all-at-once, that it's very hard for me to name individual sensations I'm experiencing.

On this day, I tried to notice the specific sensations. I could feel the nausea already. I knew I had to take action soon; I couldn't sit in this all afternoon–let alone all night–it was too uncomfortable. I did not want to be on my toes, wondering when Bill was going to approach me about this, nervous if I continued to work on the Remodel Room.

I decided to call him. Service is terrible at Pinyon, and talking with Bill can be nerve-wracking. Then I decided to send him a vocal message instead. I jotted points on a post-it, hit record, and spoke what felt true to me. I wanted to clarify the reason I was working on the Remodel project, and said I'd work the concrete project with Ricardo until it's complete. Voice is much more aligned with my heart than text. Send.

I returned to our concrete pour, but still noticed my unsettled feeling. I went back to the truck an hour later. Still no response. An hour and a half later, I saw a text. 

"No worries on my end. I figured if there was a further issue you would come and talk to me about it."

Relief. So he wasn't going to ask me about it anyway (it seems)! Perhaps I made a mountain out of a molehill, but I took care of my needs and my body could now relax. I'm being more communicative with Bill, which is my personal aim, so I lose that fear-charge with talking to him. 

And, because this all happened, now I shifted to work on the concrete project, which means I won't be around Kira’s energy in the Remodel Room. I've been trying and trying to learn how to protect myself when I'm around her energy. But I don't have to be in that uncomfortable situation. I can conserve my energy by trying not to work with her, not to face that energy in the first place. Take care of myself and save that energy for night school.