Cafe Hitch-hike


I've already had to do that

I wouldn't call this Memorial Day weekend a bust, but it was very soggy. Rafael came over and we made use of the trampoline/ sofa bed to chill and watch the big TV. It's comfortable enough but uneven; it sags downwards towards the sofa back. We sat up and binge watched stuff, and I got him to wake and bake on Sunday. We sat on the patio and smoked between one of the many downpours that took place.

We ate in restaurants where the staff took precautions. I really wanted to see one on the intercoastal, but it was packed and no one (customers, staff, or valet) wore masks or social distanced. The other option was my favorite tiki bar, but I figured no one would be social distancing. It's a very working class bar with some bikers, so it was safe for me to assume they had the same attitude of precautions as their political overlord. We found a local microbrewery that was off the beaten path with a food truck and lots of space. They had a few people but it wasn't congested, and the staff took precautions and spaced the tables. We sat at the corner of a large, shaded patio where we had a good view of things. We were very happy with the service and the reception.

The following day, we had brunch in a mom and pop place that sold arepas and Colombian food. The restaurant was mostly used for lunch and take-out during the weekday and was set in a former corner store that had a lot of floor space. I figured distancing would be very easy, and it was! We munched and then called my former boss who lived nearby to invite him to have dessert and coffee with us.

I had a nightmare last night, and I'm still shaken by it. They were maybe 3 or 4 mini-ones that I combined into a bigger one. They don't happen too often, but I guess it shows a sensitive part or feeling that I shoved aside (as usual) and sprang up from the depths. They weren't about me, but my adult nieces.

I know I have to live and let live, but it still hurts to see them suffer the way many of the women in the family did. I think it just boggles me to see how some of the things we've done are near-identical to what the women before us did. What I find more odd is some of the things they/ we have done, they had already happened to those before us; we were either completely unaware or only knew snippets. My kid sis Rosepetal had no clue of certain things that happened in the family, but it's startling to see her repeat it with amazing precision.

It definitely brought me back to something I learned at last year's retreat. I cried for most of the first day I did the psychedelic. They weren't little tears, but they were flat out tears of grief and sorrow. They felt heavy and thick. After letting all of that sit, I recalled what I cried about, and the vast majority of it was about the pain and sorrow of others. I internalized what belonged to others, or sensed their pain and took it as my own. Hell, the first few times I tried rapeh at home (tobacco snuff from various trees), my body felt intense pain but then was gone; I'm so glad those types of reactions didn't linger. I felt a shooting pain through my bones. I wondered if those pains were another energy that was stored in my body like the tears.

Then, psychedlics aren't needed for what is not known to surface. I felt bad that Rafa had to see me that way after the nightmare. He's seen at least one. But, Rafa has something in common with some of my closest people. Although he can relate to a lot, I rarely notice him internalizing much. He can almost always stay calm when I'm not. Just before I woke up, I heard him whisper, "are you ok?" He felt something from me... I'm just so glad that he can sense things without them latching onto him. Well, well... it's who he is and it's who I am. I'm so glad we can do this with each other.

Speaking of pain, I had to change my stay-home fitness routine. I was working myself too hard on the climber and my lame-ass bed needs to be replaced (but it so-ain't happening during Venus retrograde... I'll scope out what's good and who has good deals). I was waking up very stiff and in a bit of pain. I guess it's aging (I'll be blowing 47 candles on this year's cake), a crappy bed, and a workout. But, I finally considered that maybe this is where the stress of what has been happening is taking its hit on me.

I keep a routine and usually eat right. Hell, I'm light with the alcohol and herb; I don't want to come out of this pandemic in worse shape than when it began! But, I guess one can't stay serene with the mayhem that's going on. I have to limit my news and even social media. If the flood of bad information wasn't enough, I have a few long-term friends who insist that what is happening is a mass conspiracy to strip our freedoms. Attached to those sentiments are that we just plain get what we deserve, and whoever gets sick was already weakened (and with their various privileges, it's very easy for them to say and rest on those).

At least one kind person sent something that affirmed our need to take great care of ourselves and of each other. Why? They said we need to live through this so we can help rebuild things into something better. If we weren't fully feeling like we belonged before or what we offered seemed to matter, the changes to come may also change that. There's at least a counter to the deluge of negativity, hatred, and forced change.

Anyhow, I feel better after writing and guess I need to make better emotional boundaries between myself and others. I can do what I can but keep my damn hands off the rest. There's never a shortage of things for me to do. I have more wonderful online training today. I surprised myself in a conversation last week about some of it, it's not easy stuff at all but I knew what the hell I was talking about and was able to go beyond book knowledge. I was told it was time to retrain myself, and this time is letting me do it, through-and-through.

I'm not hoping things go back to normal soon. They never will, or at least not in the form they were in before. Sure, in my best guess, people will still work, eat, love, interact, and do all the usual things, but it won't be quite the same. We can try to pull it back to how things were before, but I don't think it's going to work. I'm just hoping, as I have been these past 2 months, that I'm able to brace for the shakes to come, and that I have the wherewithall for them, both externally and within. It's odd to think of myself as someone who can help rebuild, but what the hell? I've already had to do that in multiple areas in my life.

downwind | upstream