Kumbaya, MotherF#*Ker.

 

I am not huddled around a camp fire with the smell of smoke in my hair, fresh sun on my face and a belly full of burnt marshmallows.  I am in the winter of my seasonal disorder….snow, mud, salt and shit, albeit, frozen. These are the times of going in,seeking comfort in the elastic waist band of life….

And napping, whenever possible.

These are the times when nothing tastes good except complex carbohydrates…and where the hell did I hide that bar of chocolate?

It’s organic.

I do not even like chocolate. Unless it’s white and loaded with extra fat content.  I especially despise dark chocolate.  I do not care if there are nuts, berries,green tea, or all three mixed in the hard, bittersweet blocks.  Hate it.

These are the times of 3:30 am night-sweats and non-sleep. With each passing minute of heat, I feel a new wrinkle, a new shriveled up part of my super power female parts descend into mid-life.  My bones and muscles hurt, and I consider things like:

would anyone really notice if I rip off all my clothes and lie naked in the snow?

and

Sugar in any form would be soooooooo good right now…..

I cannot  read  one more article about “the change”, black cohosh, sweet potatoes and plant based estrogen.I cannot drink enough water.  I do not want a patch, a pill, an equine urine derivative of anything in my system. I do not want to sit with this, embrace it and let it be.  I want it over and done with.   I do not want to insert anything , anywhere for a more youthful, rejuvenated vagina.

Wait……?

I digress.

In my mind I feel and look like the crypt keeper.  No, really.

In some villages, when a woman is goingthroughthechange, other members of the tribe consider her stronger, wiser and the source of all that is and shall be.

I am not there yet.

Patience is a virtue.

Seersucker is a fabric.

I meditate. I walk in the woods.  I pray. I bow down to what has been.  I honor.  I seek out all that is good.I use my mind.  I move my body. I am still.  I get my roots done and secretly feel like a rock star on the days I bother to put on make-up and mascara. I am considering dating.  Actually, maybe not.  I just needed to say that out-loud.  Hell, I have recently worn pig tails and braids ….unabashedly.
And then, just this morning, when winter turned into mud season here in New England and the dog tracked mud and unfrozen shit through the house,I found my spring.

I had a going through the change epiphany….and a hot flash.

I am becoming the older wiser woman in the village. I am bowing down to the hippysoulfulwherearemylovebeadstakenoshit woman I was born to be. I know her! I have made it this far and I have a whole other lifetime in front of me.  This is what flashed in my older, wiser moment:

I can meditate and still not like people.  I do not have to pretend anymore.  There are just some people, by the very nature of who they are, rub me the wrong way.  They unnerve me.  They are untruthful.  They are not to be trusted. I cannot be around them.  The energy in me, does not recognize the energy in them.

Annnnnnnnd to all the counselors in training and sage wannabe’s twirling around in hula hoops and holistic catchphrases.  This is not about me.

Well, actually it is.

This is about me, recognizing, in an authentic way, what I do not like about people,  was pretending to like, oh, hell, even tolerate.  I do not have to pretend anymore.  And to be fair, this is not just about people.  This is about places and things too!

Okay.

I said it.  In a true flash of inspiration, shrouded in heat, with a wink and a nod to my older, wiser self:  I can meditate,  I can attune to my principals, I can do the right thing.  I can live with integrity, raise my vibration, and I can say no to the kumbaya moments. I do not need to hug it out, think on it, sleep on it, justbenice.  Marjorie Morningstar and  Pollyanna do not live here anymore. I can just say no.

Now:  About that youthful, rejuvenated vagina…..