After the high that was Monday, I’ve spent the past couple days feeling completely exhausted. Physical tiredness I could deal with. Aches and pains are to be expected: my body isn’t used to me being so active, and I’m not exactly “young” anymore. What’s got me concerned is that I feel emotionally exhausted, like someone sucked a year of my life away. For a while I was wondering if maybe I’m sick (again) but no, that’s not it. I might get sick if I don’t take care of myself, but this is definitely emotional exhaustion.
The exhaustion is bad enough that I stayed home from my music therapy on Tuesday, and ended up doing a phone session with Wakana. She listened to me talk about how great it was to be surrounded by so many awesome people, and reflected my joy that I’ve “found my tribe” – and (possibly) my calling. (If only I could make money doing it.)
Then she, being my therapist, took the conversation in the last direction I would’ve liked it to go in. “I seem to remember you complaining that you don’t feel that connected with Fox lately. You’re both just kind of coexisting, you’re not connecting.”
I participated in a May Day rally on Monday; it was fantastic! The people, the energy, the solidarity, hours of being active outside, getting to practice public speaking (by introducing someone, nothing major), connecting with some of my Green Party friends and other activists, … (very briefly) hanging out with Ron, Carl, and Mo all at the same time …
Yeah. I thought Mo was gone. But suddenly he was walking toward me, arms outstretched, a giant smile. It was like seeing a ghost. I was so happy to see him! I gave him a warm hug; I asked him about his recent experiences, how long he’s gonna be around, if he wants to get together …
He and Carl were both kind of there but not there. They each seemed more interested in talking to other people. I keep telling myself it wasn’t really the place to try to connect with anyone on a meaningful level – I myself was bouncing from one person or small group to the next. But I had some great conversations with people, friends and acquaintances – maybe I was able to appreciate those interactions more because I was focusing on what was, not what I would’ve liked? I don’t know.
Well, it was good to at least smile, say “hi,” and hug them. I think the feeling was mutual.
Ron and I continued hanging out after everyone else had left. Ze taught me how to throw a football, emphasizing that it’s about feel, not brute force. I approached it like a meditation: feeling the movements of my body, putting my intention into every muscle. My best throws were made with eyes closed.