I am living in my body again. I guess the tea & the naps were
old-school, and what I really needed was a get-all-in-the-dirt
tumbledown.
I’m back inhabiting all the rooms in my body again, and my poetry muse is talking to me! 
I am starting to notice all the ways that transitioning impacts my
body. I wonder if this is a sign of getting older (haha, my obsession
with Saturn’s Return is never-ending).
This week has been about
things that are good for the soul — like tea & honey, home-cooked
food, the company of old friends, sleeping in & naps, singing
karaoke (of course!). I realized coming back to Boston Chinatown, that
there’s a whole segment of my life that I have totally segmented off
because I needed a break from it. It was good to catch up and realize
what a different space I am in six months later, one year later. Some
of the people I used to see every day are still in their daily grinds,
but I have moved on to something else, a new phase of my life. I have
not done much poetry-ing or reading. And surprisingly enough, though I
am excited to get back to noisy street life where there are millions of
good cafes & ethnic food, another part of me is dreading entering
back into that heavy river of my life. I have so much that I am hoping
(and probably needing to do) that I’m not, but I guess it’s ok. If my
life depended on it, I’d be doing it.
I long for a real home,
regular rituals, my own space where I can build a writing corner and an
altar. Hopefully by year’s end, this will happen.
