the privilege of being still
Updated: Jan 3
There's part of me that wants to remain sanitized in public. Who grew -but only just now feels grown- from christian modesty and pick me social graces. Feels safer to be clean shaven in the public image desired by my predecessors. The pursuit of safety is an odd one though isn't it? Because it always entails movement. The adrenaline coated fear attached to danger. It's active in a way that I'm no longer driven to be. I know an embodied safety and it's a stillness in me.
There are so many ways for me to explain away my stillness. Astrology would look at my Big 3, see that Taurus sun and be like aha! There it is. Or they'd look at the rest of my birthchart see the Taurus 8H stellium and also be clued in. There's a stereotype that used to anchor me to a past pained me and I'd like to exorcise it: The laziness that's assumed when a body like mine doesn't move. Capitalism doesn't care for care. Supremacy doesn't salivate over stillness. Think about how well-practiced at something you have to be to be able to do it slowly.
Human Design tells me that I'm in the 1% of the population who should wait a lunar cycle before making big decisions. That knowledge sits with me.
I keep waiting for someone to blow the whistle to let me in from recess. I keep waiting for a decision, by an adult, that will give me a Bookmark Moment in this pandemic where it will feel like things are looking up. There was a moment mid-variants (between Original Flavor and Delta Delight) when everyone on Tinder was fucking like salmon searching for their reds - with a desperation as though we might die. I keep forgetting to count just how many strangers shoes sat at my door. But can you blame us? We spent the last year+ literally being afraid of that very thing. My profile described me as feral and that and "plucky" are potentially my two favorite descriptors of myself. That moment stood for a lot of things, but it wasn't the one I was waiting for. I kept waiting and wanting a Mom or a Dad to come and say "Hey, we were confused before, but we've learned from that confusion. It was scary and will still be scary for awhile but we have a plan and we're going to get through it together."
But no one came. No one is coming. We who do survive this virus are going to do it with support from the communities we've created. I know I'm tired. I can only imagine how tired you are too. I wish you could sit and rest awhile. I'd make you hot chocolate, roll you a joint and sit on pillows with you if I could. I wish you peace my friends. Not the pursuit of it. Not the plan for it. Not the ephemeral orgasm of it but the actual thing that's in your body waiting for you to wait with it. I want peace for you. I want presence for you. I want a quiet that I've experienced at the tip of the tail end of many a orgasm while collapsing into a lover's arms. I want us to be so well-practiced at life that we salivate over our own stillness.