My Own First 100 days

Because I've been living in 60 day cycles and no one gave me a chip

Yes that was a 12 step sobriety reference. No I’m not sober and apparently neither is….ay never mind.

I decided to start my first 100 days now because :

1: The astrology is doing some shit that I should have aid attention to 60 some days ago and I didn’t listen as I should have so today the universe was like - Mira carajo if you don’t listen this time.

I did.

It didn’t feel great, but it didn’t; feel horrible either.

2: I did a day at a hot springs yesterday with a dear dear one yesterday. It was a belated birthday gift to /for her but also it was the first time I took some real time away from the madness that has been the world at this moment.

Soaking - and not in the Mormon sense - is supposed to be good for your circulation, your brain, your muscles, reducing inflammation . Contrast bathing (hot /cold/neutral ) and mud add to the experience.

I returned home warm, sleepy and maybe that’s why when I woke up today I was very very clear (see number 1)

Pre-Soak Mala

3: On Friday at work I began to notice some things about how we are acting/reacting as an organization that made me uneasy. The leadership has been pushing since the fires here in Los Angeles (pre-inauguration) and the staff haven’t all caught up and that’s our fault /my fault and it was big call to slow the fuck down. And also I observed that in our frantic attempts to respond to the compounding disasters , cracks in our internal systems were feeling like chasms that wanted to suck me in : not being fully inclusive, confusing the urgent and important, and not being mindful - all calls to slow the fuck down.

So today is/was 1/100. I am choosing to create ease In this little corner of Los Angeles I have made my current home. I am choosing to be clear about what I can do and what I am willing to do and that they are not always the same and that’s ok.

Despite the vacuum suction cracks on the surface, I’m/we’re doing things that create/support/model community and resistance. I am proud of how much space I have taken and how I have pushed back and also how I have sat in uncomfortable spaces in an attempt to see where/how we can push more.

There is the pull underneath the earth and the thickness of the fear in the air we breath here in Los Angeles with the leaked news of massive raids happening here - it was really only a matter of time and we are as prepared as we can be but then also I see the small ways people are complying I’m advance - even though that’s rule number one of anti-facism. I see people with privilege - dique allies making themselves safer and everyone else -there’s a quiet fear. The compas tell me about it in the mornings.

I had a vision one morning as I was talking to workers - I envision their deep pockets of fear- deep like how in cartoons you have that one purse that fits everything including the kitchen sink. These are grief pockets, pockets of memories that go down deep though the Earth’s crust and connect through subterranean veins back to home/lands. The pockets so deep that the hands will never reach the bottom seam because they are shared by generations upon generations because I mean how long have the genocides been happening? My pocket is also deep but I can feel some threads. I think that’s why my maternal grandmother crawled into my lap a few weeks back to give me that hilo of hope/healing and sew it somehow to the pockets of the compas - it’s an action. I don’t even know how to sew really pero if I can connect the seams , well there is something there - some way to make the seemingly never ending well of pain close a little - to hold water, to hold one another. No se. There is something there - I’m still learning how to sew.