So I designed a mug.
You probably need one in every color.
Go ahead, don’t be shy.
After many years living with a constant, back-burner desire to learn massage, I began class last week at a great little school in downtown Oakland.
I am excited about this endeavor for many reasons, and I’ve seen them all close-up as my aunt has been a therapist for nearly two decades.
I’m excited about how much independence and flexibility I will be afforded. I’m looking forward to cultivating my own style and practice, and being able to use it as a transferable skill, in work trade and as gift. It’s a bit of a headtrip, though. I’ve spent years working from a place in my head, creating a language and classroom culture all based in verbal communication. Massage therapy school (once the immense amount of new information gets processed and synthesized) is requiring me to come from a deeper, quieter place. A slowing down, tactile, grounded place. I’ve noticed my yearning for this lately, as I’m also returning to dance after years off. There’s been an internal shift and I am welcoming it.
It also doesn’t hurt that I will be receiving bodywork at least once a week for the next year or so, especially during a sustained national crisis (that is seriously affecting me at a cellular level).
Plus, I miss being in a learning environment.
I wrote a little thing about the necessary act of taking care of your body and mind during times of intense trauma and stress.
Let’s talk about stress and normalization!
Let’s say, for example, there’s a national crisis affecting personal safety and liberty. Your cortisol levels shoot up, in order to prepare to defend yourself: “Fight, flight, or freeze.” Your levels don’t get to come back to normal, though, because the danger is still present. Over time, you lose sleep, get headaches, get sick, weight fluctuates, anxiety and depression increases, etc.
To deal, your body starts turning down it’s response to the danger. It normalizes it, without your active consent, in order to protect yourself. It’s why you see blank stares and impassive response from people who are longterm sufferers (i.e. refugees).
So, you NEED to manually turn down your cortisol levels so that they can keep responding to the danger, when needed. You NEED to take a hot bath. You NEED to put down your computer. You NEED to watch cartoons. You NEED to hug your family. You NEED to get a massage, take a walk, laugh with friends, go to the dance class, make the art, play with the dog. Because if you don’t, your body will decide that all of this is normal. And this is NOT NORMAL.
Also, your guilt about taking care of yourself does not serve you, or the resistance. Laugh hard. Smile wide. Let the endorphins rush in. Every single act of self love is a radical act.
The Resistance needs you.
A powerful, powerful day.
I felt fired up and in awe of the collective power. I just hope we can continue to harness it, especially in aid of the most vulnerable populations under this administration.
I will follow this women into any fight:
Centering reproductive organs is problematic and alienating to our intersex and trans comrades, but I did appreciate the beautiful vulva art everywhere.
But my favorite was this person trying to find their friend on their banana phone for 20 minutes. I haven’t laughed that hard since before the election.
If these first 5 days are any indication of what lays ahead, keep your boots on everyone.
After Carrie Fisher’s tragic passing, and a marathon Star Wars viewing (Rogue One, A New Hope, Empire Strikes Back, Return of the Jedi, and The Force Awakens all in three days), I’ve been thinking a lot about Princess Leia lately.
I didn’t grow up with Star Wars like a lot of my (male) peers did. The only thing I understood was that she drove teenage boys crazy in a teeny bikini. I didn’t have any women in my life who knew otherwise and could correct me, for I was sorely misinformed.
It has just been revealed to me, after 30 years, that Princess Leia is a total badass. She was a leader, a trained fighter, and didn’t put up with any shit. She fucking kills Jabba with her bare hands! I had no idea!
And so I feel cheated, somehow, that I didn’t get to spend the years of my childhood dressing up as the leader of a intergalactic rebellion because all I knew about her was that she looked hot in a gold bikini.
What I’m saying is, maybe we (men?) should be more careful about how we talk about and frame female characters, because little girls are listening.
Also? Han Solo was a dick.
Boy howdy, all this talk about sexual assault is just riveting! Really helps me stay focused on my day and my self-care!
23 more days…23 more days…