things to remember

writing in the times of times.

There was an abrupt stop to my writing right around the equinox.

Transitions can always be hard, and sometimes must be held and experienced alone. I felt like I was freebirthing misery, a watery muck of a new me. As it can be when change is a foot— it’s not pretty. It doesn’t feel good. And you want nobody there to F8ck with you as it happens. You don’t want to share it. You want to shut it all up and just wait it out. Until that gets old. And then you realize you’ve formed a new little shoot, or a petal, or your scent is different. Less of musky death and more of a blade of grass.

The sun is mostly out now. It’s drying the land. There are yellows and reds and pinks and whites of sakura blossoms. I bought ferns to line my porch. I spoke some truths— hard ones — to people who never really care to listen. But this time, they did. This is a true sign of spring. People open up. Just like the flowers. This is my prayer this season at least.

In the disgusting feelings of transition - when they are sat with - sometimes a muddy little flower grows open.

So I’ve returned such as Persephone does (but she never really leaves, trust me, it’s a patriarchal BS Story that breaks her into two). And I was thinking, maybe you— like myself— have been struggling the past month to just keep your head above the water. Maybe you need a reminder also that your mere existence is both not special and a precious fucking gift to those around you and also to yourself.

Because I love lists when I am not sure what I am meaning to write - I sat down and began making one. Of the things to remember. In these times of times. Times I have no name for that is not full of curse words. Of the things I know and need to be reminded of. Of the things that are both guideposts and also warnings. Of things that unfold a part of me. Just things. Take them or leave them.

1. I remember that walking — instead of driving — is my own personal act of resistance. Because it takes me more time to get done what I need to get done. Because it makes me sweat. Because it brings me wellness. Because it slows me entire day down when I take a 1.5 hour walk to do one thing and therefore I cannot get done all the things “I need” to get down and that is the point. We are not here to “get things done”

2. The people who will take the time to hold you when you cry, take the time to just be there for you, even when there are “things to get done” these are the people we want to go down with. This is relationship making.

3. I no longer have affiliation with any kind of binary being-ness. I have decided this. And I want to explain. I know my ethics. I know my moral code. I know what my ancestors demand of me and this world. I know my heart. I am here for the 3rd and 4th and 5th ways of being, maybe even more than that. Definitely more than that. I am not delusional that any leader will lead us, but they will come and remind us of the world we want and the work we have to do. We have to try and slowly understand each other to come together. I had a teacher once who told me your job is to practice the understanding of everyone you come into connection with. This is hard when we want to shut down or fight. There are too many rivers of being in this world. I am not saying there isn’t a right or wrong. There are many wrongs and so many rights. But what if we could learn to bring them into something we can all understand?

4. Today is the liberation day of my ancestral lands from fascist rule. We will never go back. I tend to my roots, I tend to my ancestors, I tend to my villages so we can be in a constant state of remembering — we are creating a new world receiving their wisdom within us. We just become the vessel to really listen.

5. Menopause is like sandpaper. It’s also like velvet. It’s so sensual. And it feels like I’ve taken an invisibility pill. I won’t yell if you will just listen, I say. But I yell anyway. Menopause is loud. It’s also a practice of silence, too. Sometimes my whisper is so quiet I think it may be coming from my belly. There is something brewing, bubbling, cooking… expanding? Widening into dying? There are too many words, and if you know what I mean you know what I mean. Please leave of a comment below and give me your words. I am here for its magic. It’s a little wicked. But also, soft like a belly. How lucky we are to be full of so much water— the sweat and tears proves we are the sea. The hot flashes proves we are the lava.

6. Drink water. Be in water. Read the waters.

7. The less you work, in many instances, actually can be more productive. Especially if you are neuro*spicy. The constant workload will brainfire you to a point where nothing actually can get done in a way that is full of life. Take a lot of time between tasks, if that feels right to you, and rest, or listen, or be in the soil. Then go back to the workload. You, if you are like me, will feel so much better and what you create will become much more real. Don’t buy into the systems that say you have to get everything done right now.

8. Talk to your ancestors like they are your friends around your table.

9. It’s absolutely ok to not know what you are doing. When that happens, in my opinion, it’s our beings reconfiguring ourselves to be more on path. Bless that path.

10. Write anything. Be like me right now. Don’t plan it. Don’t stress over it. Become fluid with it and write. Our voices, in unison, are a song to and of god. Give power to that melody by allowing it to breathe without constraints.

11. Writing clarifies. Not every time is a time to write. There are plenty of days, months, years that are not writing times. But. You have to know when the non-writing time, the inhale time, is over. Don’t hold your breath for longer than you are meant to. Exhaling is crucial. And writing is the exhale. Writing oxygenates the spaces around you and also reminds you that you are alive, that there is magic ready to be born.

12. Creating spaces where people come with no agenda, no expectations, just love and a true meeting each other — this is my medicine. Thank you to those who have been part of that practice with me and thank you to all of you out there who do that as well.

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Thank you for being here. I think I have gotten over the slump. It means so much to have this space, with you.

<>If you want to work with me further, don’t forget, I have a monthly container for those wishing to dream into a new way of being, channeling the spirits, and bringing practice into reality in community. Check out The Vessel. The monthly cost begins at $29.

<>I am planning a 13 week writing space beginning in October. This will be a weekly meet-up, a container of writing the mystery, together. What do you want to say? What does your body need to express? What is the narrative you want to live? How can you be held and supported into this - whether it’s for: yourself, your journal, your book, your socials, your work in the world. Maybe it’s something you need to write and burn. It will be for all of us, and it will be magic. If you want more info — keep watch out and make sure you are on my mailing list at marybethbonfiglio.com. All my paid subscribers here will get a discount- so consider getting a paid subscription.

<>Finally: we filled up our writing immersion in Palermo and yay! BUT. There are still a few openings for NINFE. as well as MANGI e BEVI. Check them out. And even more exiting — we had a last minute cancelation for BOTANICO SACRO — which means we now have one more space open. And there is a $1600 off coupon to use, so that’s a big discount. Let me know if it is for you! It’s happening soon! Travel is some real medicine. It’s not necessary but it sure helps.

XX
MB