I have spent the last two days being intensely aware of my joints--so achy. I know it's likely about either changes in the weather and/or the fact that I've been on my feet more than most week-ends, but it's unsettling. The part of me that has read every book on the body keeping score even as the mind isn't aware of all the stress, that part says, "You sold the house, and now you have to deal with all the difficult emotions you've been suppressing and delaying."
The Apocalypse Gal part of my brain says, "The U.S. has just ordered the families of diplomats to leave Ukraine. Your aching joints are not what you will remember when you reflect on the early part of 2022. Enjoy these halcyon days while you have them."
I think of the Body Politic. Are there small countries feeling fretful this morning? Countries beyond the current locus of conflict? I think of all the countries of Central America, countries that are more familiar to me because they were the settings of proxy wars of my college years. I think of our college conversations about what we would do if the U.S. suddenly went from a cold war to a hot war status and tried to make all of the men of our generation go to war. We were in the early years of men being required to register for the draft in order to be eligible for student loans.
Those years seem so distant--and it is a shock to realize how long ago those days were. I hear an occasional dispatch from those Central American countries, an election result for example, and then the news moves along. Those stories don't merit more than just a mention at the top of the news hour.
The Sensible Woman part of my brain says, "Are you sure you've completed every task for seminary that you need to have done right now? Have you thought about your seminary tasks for the coming week? Don't forget to check on your online class that starts today, the one that you're teaching; make sure to send that welcoming e-mail."
The Foxfire part of my brain works in concert with the Apocalypse Gal. They want to start canning. They wonder if we could raise chickens in this condo, if it all comes to that. They made a huge pot of yellow split peas and barley yesterday.
Sensible Woman thinks about the days to come, when she will be tired of this concoction that she will now be taking to work. She has lunch for days, months, but part of her just wants to eat Beef and Guinness Stew or maybe a lovely ricotta cake. She hasn't made a ricotta cake yet, but she's aware of the tub of ricotta cheese in the fridge with a pull date just past.
All of these selves will now suit up for a walk in the chilly morning, a walk before work, the last chance to let all of these thoughts swirl before heading to the office, where these thoughts can swirl in a different setting.
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