New York, 2018.

New York, 2018.

The Adirondack 69, to Montreal.  As the train passed over water, I marvel at the beauty of birds gliding across the water, seeing reflections of themselves.

2018 felt like it was in a constant retrograde—shadows of self constantly revealing themselves and much of what remained suppressed within me reared itself.

Water became a source of honoring countless emotions while simultaneously releasing them, and there were always more, tears.  I felt that I was projected into a space of being my most vulnerable and full self.  This body is not meant to endure pain.  This body and existence is not meant to endure pain.  Perhaps what I carry with me are the womxn before me who endured, and I exist in this lifetime for myself and for them and affirm that we all in fact do deserve rest. 

What does it mean to rest?  Where do we feel most at rest?