I’ve already attached this to a re-blog, but it feels like something that I want to post as a standalone as well. Sometimes I scream into the tumblr void about shit. Thanks to a gifted copy of The Body Keeps the Score I’m doing more DIY therapy work and processing some of my thoughts through the interwebs. So here’s a brain thing.
🎶Let’s talk about projection baby, let’s talk about you and me!!🎶 All joking aside, so many of us who deal with CPTSD use fictional works to process our trauma. We are outsourcing emotions and memories that we, for whatever reason, struggle to deal with unless there is some remove from the immediacy of them. We seek to find ourselves in characters, parallels in stories and situations for our own experiences. We live their struggles and triumphs as our own and so find catharsis within them. Aziraphale as a character is a particularly good example of this. He’s doing the thing so many of us who are trying to convince everyone else and ourselves that “we’re FINE, thank you!” do. He isn’t really processing his shit. He’s putting it on a third party to release some pressure before he completely loses it. And in so doing, us the audience, have gained a character that we both empathize and sympathize with, and in turn, use to work through much of our own trauma. I honestly think that’s why so many of us are waiting for S3 with bated breath. We need Az to figure it out. We need them both to heal. To defeat the odds. To find happiness. We’re all waiting for that because we need to believe that it’s something we can have too. If this Angel who foists 6 millennia of grief and rage and maddening questions about the “why” of everything off into an entire bookshop’s worth of stories and characters, if he can figure it out…surely we can too. Surely there is hope for us buried somewhere in the stacks. Surely there is some understanding that can be found, some catharsis or healing within the lines of these narratives. So we’re all holding our breath, our hope and our hearts, in our hands, waiting to finish the story, and in so doing, complete some part of ourselves. Finally framing those cracks where the light comes in, into something beautiful.
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It's never just a carrot.
I was standing in my kitchen this morning looking out at the garden. The only bed that I can really see from that vantage point is the carrot bed. That's not a complaint, the carrot bed is actually my favourite one.
I like carrots. Always have.
They're delicious pretty much any way you eat them. Lots of good things for the body. Easy to hide in food for people who (for whatever reason) don't like veggies. Honestly, one of the first things I remember wanting to grow when I thought of trying to grow anything.
It turns out that growing carrots is a lot more complex than I thought it was going to be just from reading about it. Like most things, lived experience often veers off the course of what the research tells you.
Is your soil fertile? Is it balanced? What are the boundaries of the space you are growing? What are your favoured varieties? Will they grow well together? Do you have enough light? Do you have enough shade? Are you ready to dedicate yourself to watering, and to fertilizing and pest control?
Are you ready to do the work?
Make no mistake, it is work. The carrots in a garden don't just appear for your use with zero - or low - effort. Lots of work before you get to partake. It's hard work that needs to be consistently done. If that effort isn't maintained, the crop won't be very fruitful and you might not have them when you need them; alternately, your carrot won't be viable - it might just wither in the ground.
But you! You did the work.
You learned as you went, made adjustments... hardest of all - you learned that you didn't have to tend the garden all by yourself.
Good for you!
So now that you have a gorgeous fucking crop of carrots, everything is wonderful and you can stop working so hard! Right? Everything is planted and look at all the lovely green growing up out of the ground... and "oh I have carrots here, I'm covered for all happy carrots, everything is great and I can kick my feet up because look at all the carrots!"
Mmmm.... Carrots. We are all set.
Hold up, hoes.
Lo and behold, one day you need a carrot while you're trying out a new recipe. You go and pull one out and it's the most wonderful, beautiful carrot and it's perfect and bright and full of nutrients and oh-so-good-for-us-ness... you talk about how excellent the conditions are for your carrot, and how healthy your garden is and eat together in happy-joyful-floaty, well earned satisfaction.
Delicious.
Enjoy your healthy garden!
Next time you are cooking up a storm, you suddenly need another carrot and you run to the garden to pull one and... it's ugly and twisted and there's dirt caked in a crack down the side of it and why does it look hairy? But that's the carrot you have and you use it because... you. need. a carrot.
This time, you discuss the garden conditions and the soil amendments. You make the choice to add and change and adjust and grow with your carrots... You let the fucking difficult carrot teach you how to cultivate a better garden. You share your meal, and it is made no less nurturing or nutritious by the ugly carrot; in fact, it is made even more delicious and fulfilling by the work you have put in to enhance your garden... by the choice to secure your future full of delectable, lovely carrots.
Each time you pull a carrot - be it perfect or ugly as hell, each time you talk about pulling a carrot, each time you tend to your carrots... you can make the choice to improve your garden as a whole. You can make the decision to apply what you have carrot-learned to how you handle other issues you might someday come up against with your lettuce, or your beans.
.
Hey, something just occurred to me...
.
Kinda the same with safewords, isn't it?
Who'd have thought that carrots and safewords would have so much in common?
.
Are you ready to do the work?
To prepare your soil? Plant your seeds? Tend your garden?
When you are ready... Use every single veggie or herb you pull... Every flower you pluck... to make your whole garden healthier, more nurturing...
Having to harvest your carrots is not a bad thing. Done with respect, with care, with mutually supportive intention, it serves to improve your garden.
Making it stronger. Resistant to pests.
Growing ever healthier and more resilient.
Sew.
Get fucking filthy.
Garden safe(word)ly on.
🥕
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