Last winter, I plopped myself down in the Busch family's spare room and then just kind of…didn’t leave. They collectively helped to fill my cup and open me up to light I hadn’t seen in quite some time. There is something truly special about being able to live alongside a particular group of souls and gain an intimate look into the small ingredients that make up their days. I feel lucky to have been present for Theo’s Skip-bo phase (which I hadn’t realized I’d been missing in my life) or Willa’s outbursts of grackles (growl-cackles).
I got to roam around the forest with old-man-Sammy and fall asleep with their sweet kitty, Daisy, who got a stress induced UTI after I left, and yes I am choosing to believe it is because of my sudden absence. I’ll cherish the times Jessie and I crossed paths while rooting around for snacks in the middle of the night, leading to hours of floor sitting while talking about existence and all its messiness. I am proud to say I have gotten to be the living journal pages onto which she poured her inner life, and let me tell you, there are a lot of words in that woman (said with love).
With Jessie being one of the most natural and devoted nurturers I’ve ever met and Rob an eternally gentle beast, I felt completely held and accepted in their home, even when I alarmingly managed to consume their sizeable tub of almond butter in just a few days. There were periods where I had to spend most of my time hiding in my room (which the kids learned to call my “hole”) and they went about their days, allowing me to exist as I was (a goblin). I am pretty open about my experiences, even the darkest ones, but very few people have seen me completely stripped down and brought to my knees during one of my major falls into the trenches. It is terrifying to be witnessed in such a vulnerable state, but also cathartic for your most hidden hurting to be seen by those who can love you through it.
Having any kind of “disability” can leave you feeling burdensome in a world that prioritizes a particular kind of consistent productivity and functionality, and it can be hard to be around others for long periods without feeling like you should be doing more. I’m thankful to these humans and so many others for reminding me I am appreciated exactly as I am, and that what I have to offer extends way beyond the tangible and the measurable.
I’ve had similar experiences living as a part time family member in other households, and know that there are many more with open doors to me. I can’t help but feel like it was no accident that although I’ve found myself with a full plate of challenges, I was also given an incredible network of warm hearts and open palms. I have often wondered “Oh my god, what would have happened if I weren’t so ferociously supported?” I then remember that the inner work I’ve been plunged into has been so intentionally written into my time here, and that all of the universe is conspiring in favour of my healing. The external blessings have allowed for the introversion essential to my becoming.
Gotta get my two cents in.. ;)
Through the years, there have been many phone calls from afar when your struggles were really struggling. When my best advice (sometimes horrible advice) would inevitably fall short, I'd end up trying to convince you to please just come be with us so I could love on you in person, mostly through little, ordinary moments of care that weren't trying to fix anything but that I knew could do more than the phone calls. After many attempts to sell you on my little moments of care, you finally came and hunkered down, and in those following months, all cups were filled. Between late night almond butter feedings, I would interrogate every single on…