schlugliminal
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on a saturday afternoon
🕑 Added 2021-02-21 02:47:02 +0000 UTCI have such a lovely little work community. As I process through my experiences, my own trauma and grief, I have to remind myself to look at the joy and compassion that I am so ruthlessly surrounded by. My job is engaging, and relaxed, and the community we have cultivated is one of compassion and invitation and space. It is riddled with artists and hobbyists and storytellers. Today, on a Saturday afternoon, we met up to make a short movie for a coworker’s wife, who has been far and away having her cancer treated--(a violent, physically and emotionally hollowing process). It is a “Get Well Soon” tale, with heroes sent by a wizard to deliver the message, daunted by ‘procrastination goblins’ who want to distract the heroes with dance moves along the way.
Another coworker--(in yet another violent, physically and emotionally hollowing process)--has recently escaped a lifetime of abuse, choosing to risk losing everything she knows to gain command of herself. A first leap into a long and difficult journey. I am awed by her bravery, by the trust in her fall, and by the ways we have all reached out to catch her. This is real life stuff. We can’t do this alone.
This is going to sound just unabashedly trite, but this year has been really difficult. Innumerably. Indisputably. Traumas have followed traumas in some sick tapestry of despair. A parade of ephemera and death. I wrote in an email to my father last week that I have found myself “stepping out” a lot lately. I think of these as small dissociative breaks. I step out into research, into cigarettes, into dreams, waking or otherwise, into long blocks of text. I have felt the effects of general anxiety pierce like jagged rocks into the soft pads of my feet. I could put my shoes on, but they’re wet, and they make my feet swell, so I can’t wear them for very long. Everywhere I would like to go seems so far away; the wind is bitter cold and I didn’t really bring enough snacks to dally. How long can I watch the moon in wonder? How long can I crouch beside the tide pools and just listen?
When should I start walking, and to where?
Do you know where you are?
