1:25pm It’s Friday again. I can hardly believe another week has ripped by. I’m hoping to get done with my work and declare it the weekend. This evening I’ve been invited to a potluck in honor of a friend’s birthday. So I’ll be bringing kitcheree, goat yogurt, and braggs. I wonder if folks will sample this dish that’s been sustaining me so beautifully. I also wonder how I will feel to be around all the other food that will be there. Within the confines of the 40 days and 40 nights, I don’t have any concern about eating anything other than what I’m bringing, but I’m remembering my discomfort at last week’s potluck — as much with the drinking as with the food. To be sure, there’ll be alcohol there tonight. I’ve thought of it as the grease that oils the social engine of these sorts of gatherings. I used to participate with gusto — was even, at times, the life of the party. But it took a terrible toll on my health and on my personal integrity, drawing me into doing and saying things I still regret. The good news about the regret is that it keeps me from drinking. But I have a hard time staying out of judgment when I’m in its midst. No good ever comes of using alcohol to get happy — at least not for me. What is right action here for me? I want to honor my friend’s birthday, and I want to honor myself. We shall see.
8:46pm Home from the potluck. The people who tried the kitcheree all enjoyed it, which pleased me. Being around the alcohol was hard. Again, not because it called to me, but because I could track how the energy shifted as the evening progressed and the alcohol level increased. I noticed this thing that happens when folks start slipping away from real connection. When I call them back by engaging them from my own presence, the eyes dart, an almost perceivable question mark forms on the brow and then they slip away again. Is it rude to walk away when real connection is not what’s actually wanted? I mean I get, sort of, that real connection is only just one of several possible ways of being connected — my preferred way.
What do I mean by “real?”
I mean even when the talk is about ideas and opinions, there’s a connection through the heart. Alcohol and heart connection cannot co-exist, at least not for me.
But I did honor my friend on her birthday and that felt good.
On to Day 20!
Whether through Shamanic practice, through ministry, or through art, Riva finds peace and practice in spreading love, compassion, and empathy for the self and others. 