There have been moments throughout this month that I’ve wished we can just scrap July from the calendar. I’ve had what feels to be an absurdly hectic, stressful month. Everything snowballed––some things out of my control, others the direct consequences of actions I took. I’ve had a lot of emotional labor to struggle through the past three of so weeks, and I don’t do well with emotional labor. I may have a Pisces moon, but goddamn if I’m not the stubborn, tenacious Leo.
This is all to say: July has been…a learning experience. There was a steep learning curve, but I learned a lot. And then the blood moon eclipse came and reset everything, so the past few days have been blissfully amazing compared to what came prior. (Thanks, blood moon eclipse!) One of the main things that I’ve learned, perhaps contrary to or because of that Pisces moon, is that there’s certain emotional labors I no longer want to perform publicly.
In the past, I’ve publicly performed my grief––my moments of mourning. A status on Facebook and Twitter. A blog post. Small updates as to how I moved or continue to move through my grief. Writing through it helped me; it made what I felt make sense, at least somewhat. I don’t know if it’s getting older, or if it’s the continued presence of mourning, but I no longer want to perform that work publicly. It doesn’t aid me in the same way it did when I was younger. It’s been a realization that I’ve felt most strongly this past month as I hit the one year anniversary of my dad passing. I’ve reflected on this blog and the work I’ve done on it, and I’ve realized that when it comes to grief, I talk in circles. Grief is a living thing––it never goes away. It’s become easier, to me, to acknowledge it. To say to it: I see you; I hear you; we’ll move through this. Writing it just sticks me right back to whatever painful moment I’m looking at, and I don’t want to live in those moments. I want to give my grief a new name, a new face. Its own face. Not my nana’s, my papa’s, my aunt’s, my dad’s. But, all of them, simultaneously together and yet still separate. To do that, I can’t write about it. At least, not right now.
Which leaves me at a bit of an impasse, because so much of this blog is about grief. It’s about moving forward. We shall see.
I pulled my end of the month tarot card today, wondering what this month has tried to teach me. Strength. VIII. Courage and a cool head in face of difficulties. Compassion. Taking what’s been given to you and making it positive, a moment that shows how strong you are. Your willingness to control the most unbearable of circumstances. An appropriate card as we move into August––Leo season.
Here’s to you, July. I’m not sad to see you go, but I appreciate you…mostly.