Hello dear one,

I’m taking a breath with you here and now, inviting 1% more presence into my body.

[ o o o ]

This week we return to 2022-Rebecca entering her second October in the Desert.

While rereading journal entries from this time, I’ve been surprised at how many blessings are in this notebook. She will go from retelling the day’s events, to a list of gratitudes, to blessing various people.

Perhaps next week I’ll leave one or two in the entries I select, but until then I’m delighted to share a new resource for blessings:

Kristin Noelle, from whom I’ve been receiving energy healings the past two years, just released a podcast of blessings. It’s called Hands of Light, one blessing a week. Her voice carries such a warm, gentle energy, which is always a balm to my being.

If that stirs something deep within you, go dip in. If your body constricts, joyfully pass. I celebrate you listening to your body’s signals and choosing what’s best for you!

Rooting for you,
Rebecca

[If you’re newly joining, this is part 16 of an ongoing journey—actual entries from the years featured in the mythical short story “Root Living.” You can begin with part 1 here.]

October 2, 2022
Chris’s friend Andy is here. I was just in the forest during a storm – it’s when I was called. I found a low spot soon after the cabin and was sheltered by some trees. I’d wanted to ground deeply, to sense and understand the energies of the land, the plants, the ancestors – to receive healing and help re: Kira. 

What you fear and resist will come full force. If I avoid her and fear her, she will persist to spark me. May my spirit be strengthened, may my senses sharpen, may my body rest, may I keep sight of the bigger picture, the energetic realm, love. 

October 10, 2022 [Loam Post]
Two months ago I learned my massage therapist Emily, who I’ve been seeing +\- monthly for the past year, was in a biking accident and wouldn’t be able to see clients for a while. The owner offered to see me herself at my scheduled appointment the following week, but I chose to cancel instead. It felt too much of a drain to be around a new energy at a session where I’m seeking relaxation and healing. The owner said it would be several months before Emily would be back, and she encouraged me to see one of the other practitioners.

Last month I scheduled an appointment with someone new. It took extra energy to be with someone unknown, who didn’t know my body, and other particulars. And yet I was pleasantly surprised. I’d loved Emily’s massages so much, but this day I felt new sensations, new types of pressures in certain places, slower movement, which felt more my tempo. Could it be, that I liked this therapist’s style more than Emily’s?

I usually do hot stones with Emily; I love the heat and it melts the tension in my shoulders. That day with this new practitioner, a few of the stones were too hot at the start; it burned, but after just one or two seconds being pushed across my skin, it was the perfect temperature, so I didn’t say anything. This happened a few more times, and I thought about saying something, but the more time that went on, I didn’t want to break the silence.

When I left, I reflected that it was okay I hadn’t had energy to ask for what I needed, but I wanted to be able to speak in these sorts of situations without hesitation. I would have felt much more comfortable without the burning.

***

Today, a month later, I had a second appointment with this other practitioner. When we confirmed the appointment details at the beginning, she asked if I’d ever done hot stones before.

My mouth said, “Yes, I have. And I’ll tell you if it’s ever too hot, sometimes they need just a second to sit before touching the skin.”

“Okay, yes that’s right, we did stones last time, I remember. Definitely let me know if it’s ever too hot.”

I made the opening for myself early on, so I wouldn’t get trapped in this massage-silence-glass that I hadn’t wanted to break last time! None of the stones were too hot today, and I’m so proud of myself for being able to make this small statement before we got started.

Also, near the end of the session I was really digging the music in the background. What is this, I wondered. I waited until our session was over before I asked about it while I paid. “It’s a playlist I made,” she said. “I can send it to you if you want,” she offered. “It was a really cool song, like calm relaxing fantasy,” I said, not answering her question, as I was imagining an iTunes playlist that would be a hassle to “send” to anyone.

After I paid, I used the restroom in back before leaving. While in the restroom, I kept thinking about that song, and how I wanted to hear it again. What if it’s a Spotify playlist? You have a hotspot now for school, you could actually possibly listen to music on Spotify.

When I turned out of the back to head towards the front door, I walked past my massage therapist laughing with her coworker at the far counter, backs facing the walkway I was in.

It felt like an abrupt interruption, but I said her name and she turned her head. “Is that a Spotify playlist you were playing?” I asked.

“Yes, do you want me to send it to you?”

“Yes, please.”

Then I gave her my number and she texted her name, as a reminder to later send me the playlist.

October 10, 2022
I just finished reading Sonia Choquette’s “Diary of a Psychic,” and found myself envying her open communication with helping spirits at such a young age, knowing her purpose and karma. It got me curious about my purpose and karma. Some days I feel wrong or fake or unspecial for not being able to see auras and chakras - even blueprints are hard to visualize. I need reassurance that all will unfold in divine timing. 

I felt sad initially when I got Evan’s message that he wouldn’t go to the midwest with me in December if ends up falling during his temporary promotion. Seeing my family is more important than work for me (and for us, I think), and wanted to talk about it. I sent some vocal ideas, we’ll see. I trust divine orchestration and pray that the right situation will come - for all involved. I want to go there with Evan, and also, I understand this may not be part of the bigger plan. 

Monday Oct 18
I messaged Evan on Monday and asked if he planned to talk to Bill at all before his vacation. He said no, he couldn’t do it. I said okay. 

And then he sent a longer message that said he actually didn’t want to go to the midwest anymore, the timing wasn’t right for him and he felt bad for changing his mind, and for not being able to give me what I want.

I felt low emotions initially, but was able to accept his truth and I responded in a loving way. When I imagined going home without him, I imagined feeling uncomfortable, how it was in 2019, and how I don’t feel belonging, love, freedom to be my true self. And that saddens me deeper. Evan had felt like a safe band-aid. 

October 22, 2022 [Loam]

I drive back to the VC after lunch and head to the bathroom remodel which I'm working on with Jerry. I walk into the men’s side, and he has a podcast playing—sounds like talk radio. 

These past couple of weeks, he usually only turns on his podcasts when he's working alone, and turns them off when I join. To get a friendly vibe going this afternoon, I make some surface comment or ask a question about whatever they've just said on the podcast. 

And then the podcast stays on.

Oh no. Because I made that comment, he must think I like this podcast, or that I'm okay with it. Jerry is now asking me about the hardware for the back of the stall door, and I can't listen to him because the podcast voices are so loud. It's all I can hear. And the content is of a vibration I do not want to be around, two men making jokes at women for having shoes? I don't want to listen closely enough to know exactly what they're talking about. I wish I could drown it out. I hate hearing people make dumb, shallow, degrading radio-talk jabs at women.

I can feel that I'm more sensitive and closer to stimulation overload at this particular moment of this particular day. 

I pause and consider what it would feel like to ask for what I need.

I hear the men's hollow banter and feel my energy draining. 

And then I go for it.

"Jerry, can we do music instead of the podcast?"

"Oh yeah, I don't even notice it, it's background noise to me," he says. 

"Oh wow, it's all I can hear, my brain can't hear you talk with that on."

And then he puts on the 90s rock playlist he'd been playing earlier. I realize I would prefer no music to this music, but I don’t have capacity to make that ask – and yet it's still a win in my book.

My mind flashes back to March in the remodel room with Kai and Kira. How strongly some subconscious part of me felt that I would be totally unlovable and lose belonging if I voiced when their music, her jokes, her words, their volume, when any of it was too much for me. Eight months later, and look at what I just did! I asked for what I needed, and I'm still standing. No huge activation somatically. I received what I asked for!

Oct. 30, 2022
I knew this morning I would soon find myself at 5pm, not so eager for a new work week because I’m craving more time alone to write, to learn, to make, to reflect, to sense energy, to ground. 

I started the morning with a few letters out (to Evan, to Mark, to Elizabeth). Did my electric homework online, made a delicious chili for the chili cookoff tomorrow. New ingredients for me: cumin, paprika, cocoa powder, and maple syrup. I searched and bought flights for Dec 21 - Jan 1. Marie and Chris have been packing/cleaning all day, so I can feel that uppity energy of their upcoming move out.

I’m thinking about themes of shedding, and also planting new seeds in fertile soil. I want to shed my judgement of Kira. I have tried in so many realms, so perhaps I give this intention to the spirits, and make an ongoing art piece or dance or some wordless way.

Nov 10 2022 [Loam Post]
I have been extra tired since Sunday, sleeping long nights. I reveled in my no-class Monday evening, grateful I did not need to go anywhere, as I only had energy for dinner then bed after work.

At plumbing class Tuesday night, my eyes felt fuzzy and heavy—my body really wanted to rest. The stimulation of our lab, soldering copper with propane torches getting passed back and forth, so late in the day, made it harder to fall asleep when I got home at 8:30.

Although I got to wake up an hour later on Wednesday, per my maxiflex schedule during the semester, I still felt unrested and foggy all day. It was cold and rainy. I warmed up indoors when I could, and dragged out transitions and small talk to pass the time. Although it was only day 3 of the work week, I’d only had one of three classes so far and Thursday is a no-work holiday for us, it felt as though I’d worked a full week and had already had my three classes.

I was in conversation with two coworkers in the shop at the end of the day, and lost track of time. I didn’t leave at my usual 4:30 to get ready for class; I stayed until the regular 5:00 end time. I really don’t want to go to class tonight, I said to my coworker.

When I got home, I had that thought again. I considered not going. Part of me felt so much relief. Wednesday night is the class where there is no syllabus, the teacher jumps around from story to story at a million miles an hour, and I usually feel overwhelmed and dumb. 

There was also a part that felt like it will always feel better to stay home, and if I do it once, will I just start skipping class the rest of the semester? There was real tension here, and I had 30 minutes to make a decision.

I called Evan to chat for a bit, and tell him I was in an internal debate about going to class. He thought I was asking what he thinks I should do, but I wasn’t. My inner knowing will make my decisions. He asked a few questions about both possibilities, and then I was able to ask about his day. After the call, I had 10 minutes before I usually leave for class. I was still in my work uniform. I laid on the couch and got in touch with my spirit. It felt so good to be lying down.

Even though the next day was a holiday, so I could sleep in as much as I want, I know the quality of sleep I get after a late class. I did not want that poor un-sleep sleep. I know how much energy it takes to drive in the dark downtown, to sit in that room and try to gain something useful from this particular teacher. I did not have that capacity. It felt good to imagine crawling into bed. I decided I would skip class. 

I grabbed my computer and turned on the hotspot to send my teacher a quick message, letting him know I’d be absent.

How do I phrase this? 

“I won’t be at class tonight because…” 

The truth is: It’s 5:30pm and I do not have energy to drive 15 minutes. The bright headlights in the dark, the alertness required, the energy that takes of me. It’s so much! I do not have that capacity right now; my eyes want to close. My body is adjusting to the darker mornings and darker-earlier evenings. It really wants to sleep more, but my work and school schedule doesn’t change with the seasons. This is creating tension I don’t want to navigate. I am a deep-sensing person, and my capacities are different from your “average” 33-year-old American woman. I can feel subtle energy, and this affects me every day. I need more sleep and space than most people. 

I cry when my mind touches how tired I am.

How can I make this palatable for my teacher? I’m not “sick.” People are tired all the time, and they keep doing things. (I don’t think that’s the way, though. My body and spirit can’t just “power through.”)

“Then it sounds like school is too much for you,” I can hear a male voice saying back.

Now I’m starting to feel shame and not-enoughness of my deep-sensing self, a spiral pulling me into a pain cycle. If I can’t go to class tonight, and my energy being how it’s been, how will I be able to finish the semester? It’s only going to get darker and colder. 

This is so familiar to days in the summer when I had to call in “sick” for work — yet that word didn’t resonate with why I didn’t have capacity to be at work those particular days. I quickly recognize the spiral, though, before I’ve slid down, and I hit pause. (10%!) That could come so easily, following these thoughts, but it will not serve me.

I write:

“Hi Steven,

I will not be at class tonight. My body is loudly telling me it needs to rest — perhaps I’m coming down with something — so I will rest.

Be well,

Rebecca”

I hit send and close the computer. 

I release that past tension of decision-making and the spiral. I turn off my morning alarm. 

I pour myself a hot cup of healing herbs and crawl into bed, pulling my weighted blanket over me. 

I turn on an episode of Kim’s Convenience.

This is my present, I have chosen. I am home, I am resting. 

I sleep for 10 and a half hours.

Nov. 13, 2022
Friday morning I smacked my head on the corner of my nightstand first thing, HARD. Watched a Loam gathering while eating breakfast. Cried a couple of times, no idea why. I felt so sad. Cathleen’s birthday? Sent Evan a quick vocal before I left for his house, so he’d know about my mood.

When he got in I could tell he hadn’t heard my vocal, and I didn’t have voice to communicate because I thought I’d just cry and I still have shame stories about being so low for no reason. He was so sweet and gentle.

We had connecting conversation, then while making dinner I asked more / shared doubts about he and I, based on him coming from the relationship with Callie before. I don’t know if he received what I wanted to communicate——that his bar seemed so low: to not feel depressed with his partner, to feel supported, to be able to do things he likes. It reminded me of when Dee said we should get back together because “I’m easy to live with.” I want something much deeper, and perhaps my wants are narrower and specific.

The strange part was Saturday morning when I woke up and turned my head, everything spun. It’s hard to even describe the experience, I didn’t know this was possible to be still and sober and see/feel the room twisting and moving.

I was freaked out and cried and closed my eyes, head resting flat on pillow, facing straight up at the ceiling.

Evan was already at work, I couldn’t move to get to my phone in the other room – but we have no service here anyway.

What’s happening?! Why? 

In time, eventually I was able to get upright, but felt very unbalanced. Later I remembered about hitting my head the other morning… 

…

I alternate between wanting to soak in all the new knowledge, writing to share and teach others, wanting to operate from these spiritual principles and feel heart-centered, spirit-guided at work, and wanting to just be in stillness, no split attention to books I haven’t yet birthed, groups/workshops I haven’t yet led, what can I share/teach while I’m on the path, etc.

I’ve been feeling more connected to Evan, and also I got to see him Thurs, Fri, and Sat with the holiday, and we vocal messaged a few times yesterday and today.

Evan has a job interview on Wednesday for a Fish and Wildlife 8. He said on a scale of 0 to 10, he’s at a 5 in terms of taking the job if offered. This surprises me because I’m at a 0 right now for other jobs. He just got installed here, just started therapy, has a place to snowboard – for me it’s so exhausting to start over, and friends & community is so important.

Nov. 20, 2022
What questions are resting on my heart?
I wonder if my connection with Evan is “enough” for me. On my mind, not heart, is how tired I was Saturday morning and how unslept I felt this morning——coming down with something? Seasonal tiredness? I feel badly that I haven’t asked to meet w/ spirit guides during meditation this week.

I’m wondering if I should even try to finish this HVAC program, or just take classes I’m interested in, or take only two classes to have more free time and learn deeper. 

How can I prepare myself for my midwest visit? What is my intention? What reminders will I need?

How can I make space for more spacious, unscheduled time – less doing, more being?

(I found out last week that I’m getting a housemate Nov. 30 – Peter from HQ). And on Wednesday I learned about the scary break-in attempt at Bry’s last Sunday at his house across the road from mine, but don’t want to revisit that before bed.

Weds Nov. 31, 2022 [Loam Post]

I go home for lunch, which isn't my norm, but it's too cold to enjoy a lunch outside. My two coworkers must have gone to town for lunch, because their work trucks are not at the shop. I'm definitely tired from class/lab last night, but have been doing all right at work today.

Then I receive a text from our housing manager saying that Peter is going to start sleeping at the house tonight after work. I knew he would be moving in eventually, but didn't know it would be during the work week. I begin to cry.

Deep crying, exhausted crying. I imagine all of the energy it will take to set boundaries so I feel as safe as I can in my shared-housing government home. I imagine the intruding sounds, smells, foods, noise, energy, presence which will now steal my life force. I imagine the discomfort of having to explain what I need, rubbing against wonderings of ‘are these too many needs, am I sharing the space well enough, am I letting them be them?’ I grieve that I've hardly settled into routine without my housemates that left at the start of the month. This glorious time alone is ending too soon.

I can't stop crying. I feel so, so tired. I can tell that much of this response is due to my exhaustion mid-week with classes. I still have the hardest class tonight, the one where I usually feel scrambled and overwhelmed at the instructor's jumpy way. 

Lunch is over. I walk back to the shop, grateful my coworkers are still gone, because I can't stop crying. So I walk to the back and sit by a tree–where I usually lunch when it's not cold/rainy out.

I cry and ask my guides to help me, please help me know I have the power to live with this other person, help me remember there's a bigger plan I cannot see. I push my back against the tree trunk, please lift me, for I do not have the strength to continue, to finish the work day, to go to my hard class.

I get up, aware that I've already taken a longer lunch break than we're allotted. And I cry, exhausted. I'm not in work mode. The thought of seeing my coworkers feels so, so uncomfortable. I can't shove these feelings away; the exhaustion and grief need to express. I envision for a moment the safety of being home.

What if I use sick leave for the remainder of the day?

Just then my system starts to calm down; the crying ceases. Simply imagining myself resting at home feels so settling. So much so, that now I question if I really can't finish the day, are you sure this is worth using your limited sick leave hours?

My hands move, and I've texted my coworkers that I'm taking sick leave the rest of the day, I plan to be in the following day like usual. My body has already made the decision before my mind had time to spend precious energy debating the validity of using sick leave.

Now I've gathered up my things, locked my work truck, and am heading home. Then I text my supervisor–an action which historically drains energy. I only spend a moment thinking what to say. Yes, I got my period this morning, but I do not have any menstrual pains. While that reasoning tends to make many males uncomfortable and not ask further questions, I can't use it because that's not my truth. This is energetic, emotional exhaustion. I'm deflated at the thought of losing my safe home to the intrusion of an unknown energy after work.

"Hey Bill, I need to take sick leave the rest of the day for personal health issue. Should be in my regular hours tomorrow."

I don't like the sound of the word "issue" at all, but it's what I'm able to come up with in the moment. I've communicated that I'm not ill.

I take a shower and crawl into bed. I cannot fall asleep, but play the Sarah Blondin "Surrender to the Stillness" recording which always soothes my body. Then I dig into a therapist-memoir-generational-trauma book which is so, so good. I spend the afternoon reading in bed. I release thoughts of work/should/ability.

Because I gave myself this reprieve, when new housemate Peter comes in sometime after 4, I have the capacity to come out of my room and genuinely say ‘hello, I'm home because I took a few sick hours at the end of the day, Welcome, here's where kitchen things are.’

And then Peter says, "I won't be here long——just a couple of days. I'm moving to Phoenix on Saturday."

What?!

I piece together that things have ended with his partner, and he can't afford housing alone in this town where he got this job two months ago, so he's going to try moving there.

I feel guilt at not having wanted this housemate. And I feel grateful that I'm able to offer a soft landing – with tea, beautiful houseplants, a welcoming environment – for someone who has lost his relationship, home, and now job in a matter of weeks.

I have better capacity for HVAC class that night.

Spending those four hours at home made a huge difference in my wellbeing. Each time I choose me, with less and less attention/energy given to how I'll explain it to others, I'm strengthening my inner knowing.