Healing for the Earth, Day Three: Grounding

Hello fellow Earthlings,

Here's a little video on GROUNDING that I created for you all to help you release all that's in your space that doesn't need to be there. Much like deleting files on your computer that may be overloaded. Sometimes it's good to clear all of that out. The volume's a little low on this one, but you get the gist.

How y'all doing out there on our BIG BLUE MARBLE? Have you been able to get outside and breathe some fresh air? Have you taken a break from technology? Have you been able to take a few minutes to tune in? Today, I woke up late and didn't get much done. It's easy for all kinds of emotions to swirl around in my head and not have anywhere to go if I don't get outside! I don't know what it is about being outdoors. Perhaps there's a different language out there.

One that makes you stop and smell the roses.
One that makes you stare at new leaves on trees for several moments.
One that makes you notice a butterfly.
A BUTTERFLY!

Some say that there's no time to smell the roses. We've got a crisis here. People are dying. Our Earth is ailing. We don't have time. We need to keep ourselves active and informed and busy and on top of it and well-stocked and checked in with everyone and, and, and...there are a million things to do and find out and know and help with and do, do, do.

.Nature wants you to stop and notice.
 Nature wants you to be part of it!

Of course it's important to care and be informed about what is going on and to help others in any way that you see fit. Each person will have there own way.

As long as it is kind and compassionate and useful, it's all good.

One thing that helps me is to drop in and see how I'm feeling. That gives me a lot of information right away.

When I'm on my computer all day doing work or if I get on Facebook, while it's nice to connect, I don't feel connected to my body and spirit a lot of the time. Something in me and in nature longs for a connection. And when I'm able to do this, it's amazing medicine for the spirit.

Today I felt the need to GROUND OUT all the energy that is swirling out there. There are so many different news stories, posts, emails, thoughts, ideas, questions, concerns, worries, laughter (laughter is good), sharing, sadness, grief, anger. All of these are fine and GOOD, but if you are an empath like me, that stuff gets stockpiled in the system. Time to put it all on a disk drive or into the TRASH BUCKET just like on my Mac down at the bottom right of the screen.

Do you ever take time to empty out the trash or clean house? I can't operate unless I do this. Otherwise I'm a walking collection of every single thing I've picked up throughout the day.

One of the most marvelous things I learned in Psychic School was GROUNDING! We are on the EARTH and yet sometimes we float around on top of it never really sinking in to it. The EARTH is our home, without it we would not be here.

Grounding helps me to release that stockpile of all that I accumulated throughout my day so that I rest very soundly at night and am able to wake up refreshed the next day.

Out on Dungeness Spit, I found a little spot in the sand amongst the logs and stone altars created by fellow Earthlings down on the beach.

 I nestled in and created a little video on grounding for you all. The stones and sand really help me feel connected to the EARTH. They give me permission to let go of all that is not needed in my space so that I can be a receiver of what is needed. If I'm filled up with gunk, I can't operate very well. Kind of like a vacuum cleaner that needs the lint basket cleared out.

I walked down the beach to the natural totem pole that stood tall. No one knows exactly how it stood straight up like that. Some say a root ball from the tree dug deep into the sand making it a permanent feature on the beach. I felt my boots sink in the sand and really felt a connection. Just then an eagle landed on the top of nature's totem pole and looked me in the eyes.

I am a Scorpio and eagle is a symbol of my sign. I felt that the eagle was really witnessing me. We had a moment together and I felt very seen. Somehow I got the message that the work I'm doing here is good work for the Earth and I should keep going. This is what the eagle gave to me. Had I not stepped outside and walked down Dungeness Spit, I would not have met this eagle who is still in my heart reminding me that I too am part of this Earth and I can let go, tune in and ground at any time.

Peace to you my fellow journeyers. May you take a moment to ground each day and feel yourself on this EARTH! The Earth loves it when we recognize her and the animals definitely feel it!

Peace + Love + Light,
Katherine

Healing for the Earth, DAY TWO: Drumming for Peace

Hello fellow Earthlings,

I offer you my drumming this evening for PEACE. So get comfortable for a few minutes and put this on speaker and lay down and just let it enter you....the beat of the EARTH and our own hearts on it. This is my prayer for peace. This is my offering of PEACE, love and healing to all of you and the planet on which we live.

Today and all days are gifts. I really feel this. Each moment is precious and has always been precious. Today I took a long walk down Jamestown Beach. The sun was high and the tide was out. Hundreds of birds used the opportunity of the high tide to find shellfish. I found a sand dollar today. A whole one!

 When I walk, I really feel in tune with all living things. I know, in these difficult times, it may be difficult to walk or go outside. Even just a few steps outside to look at flowers or see a tree is important. You can call nature and the beauty of the Earth into your heart space. I have a friend who is quarantined in Europe and on lockdown and can't go on walks, but she finds creative ways to get outside. She walks to a grocery store that is far away so that she can be outside. We are not meant to be locked inside as a species. The Earth is our home, but it's ailing. I really feel this. This is not a human dilemma that we are going through. It's an Earth dilemma. It affects all beings and most of all, the being that we are living on. If we separate ourselves from the Earth and nature, we won't be able to go on. For the next 30 days, I'm dedicating my blog to healing for the Earth. This evening I decided to share with you the elk drum I made in my Vision Circle. I play it every evening in ceremony. A herd of elk live in Sequim and it makes me feel more connected to them when I play it. The animals are in tune with the Earth so if you listen, you can hear them and understand their wordless language. They are calling all beings to LISTEN.

Today's message and healing is about listening to the beat of the Earth. It's about putting down our human agendas to TUNE IN to the larger picture. It's about the HEART BEAT of the planet, this big BLUE marble we live on. There's a tendency to ask, "What can I DO? What can I DO?" There's a flurry of people out there wanting answers and wanting to DO something.

If you are able to just stop for a few moments and breath and go inward or walk and feel each step, you will find the answers. Just two minutes, five minutes, a half hour, one hour. It doesn't matter, but it is so important.


Much love,
Katherine

Healing for the Earth, DAY ONE: Walk Gently on the Earth

Hello fellow Earthlings,

Here is a message from my walk today through the woods towards Dungeness Spit in Sequim, Washington.

I've been called to write a daily month-long series called "Healing for the Earth," which includes ALL Earthlings and other beings on it. Here's my DAY ONE message for YOU!

Last night, I came back to Sequim after a few days in the Seattle area. Right away, I felt a pull to get very quiet and meditate. The energy out here is so strong and I'd like to share it with all of you. I am in a monthly Vision Circle with other like-minded souls who come together to drum for peace, love and harmony for each other and the planet. I created my own elk drum with River, who leads that group. It's interesting that my drum is made from elk hide as Sequim is the home of a large herd of elk.

I am a psychic and I'm able to channel. These are two things I haven't fully been able to own in public, but I've decided to own them here. I'm extremely sensitive to energy and I often pick up on very subtle vibrations. I often know when deer are near when I'm inside the house and I can feel sea animals, like seals, sea lions and whales, under the water out on Dungeness Spit. I know they are there and they often come up to the surface when I face the water and we have a few moments together. I'm aware of a very strong Native American energy here and feel the ancestors of Jamestown nearby. When I drum, they gather and I receive messages.

Last night I drummed for about 1 hour. I could feel the animals of the Earth and feel a Native American presence. I could feel that, as many have predicted, the Earth is going through a shift. It can not carry on as it has been. This shift is happening on a very deep level. It's asking each Earthling to drop inward and listen. It's calling Earthlings to experience and find answers within nature and in silence. It's calling for Earthlings to reduce or let go of technology. The answers are in nature and the natural elements of nature. It's calling us to RAISE the vibration by dropping inward.

Last night, I was instructed to burn sage and also to gather salt, particularly Himalayan salt, which is actually a crystal called Pink Halite and has similar properties to Rose Quartz. It's known to release negative ions in your environment which purify the air. I grounded this salt last night and mixed it with hot water and drank it. I felt energy and clarity in my lungs and throat. I turned on my salt lamp in the evening and I also have a night light with Himalayan salt pieces in it that has an immediate calming affect on me.

This morning I felt a pull to Dungeness Spit. The mountains and deer were out and the sun was so bright. Here's a picture from my walk on The Spit today:

 Before I left, I drew a card from my Earth Magic Oracle deck the I got at Breitenbush Hotsprings in Oregon. Each card displays beautiful art connected to the Earth and a message with each picture. I drew GREEN MAN which I found so appropriate because tomorrow is Saint Patrick's Day and also because the message on the card is so pertinent to our times. Here's the photo and here's what the literature says about the card:

Green Man reminds us of the incredible synergy required for Gaia to maintain her delicate and dynamic balance among the various beings on the planet....We witness this (synergy) in the complex and cooperative interaction between plants, humans and animals.

And here is the message:

A flow of life is guiding you, where things seem to fall into place as you move about your business. You are in a mutually cooperative interaction with Spirit, as your will is aligned with the will of Spirit, and your mission in congruent with your sense of purpose. When this is happening, there is a synergy, a way that your life force is continually coming into balance with the forces of Nature.

Yes, I feel this. Nature is guiding me out here and is available at any time for anyone. I feel like the messages are everywhere! On the beach in the sun lying against a log, I picked up a handful of sand and let it sift through my fingers, fall and become part of the many grains that were already there. I feel we are in a time of letting go of FEAR and expanding and being more part of this Earth which we inhabit by being loving and walking gently upon her. She is such a gift to us.

Peace + Love + and Harmony to all of you, my fellow Earthlings. Until tomorrow.....

Letting go of Toilet Paper....

Fellow Earthlings,

Are you feeling it?

Panic, chaos, viruses, crazy leaders, tornadoes, school closures, no hand sanitizer and no toilet paper...these are the topics of the emails and articles coming through from afar. I feel removed and separate and it reminds me of a dream I had where I saw what was going on, but was not part of it. More about that later.

Truthfully, it's weird to be out here in Sequim already quarantined in nature. I'm out here with the eagles, hawks, deer, seals, crabs, salmon, elk. In fact, sometimes they are the only beings I come into contact with on any given day.

I'm teaching an online class at the college, so actually, I don't need to meet students and risk getting exposed. The coronavirus has taken 11 lives in Washington State and 70 people have been infected and that number is expected to rise. Governor Inslee has called a state of emergency in Washington State. My colleagues at the college are scrambling to make arrangements with their students for the end of the quarter because they may not be able to finish the quarter with their students. We are waiting to see if our college closes.

But out here, things move slowly. Since I moved out here in December, this land has been calling me to stop and TUNE IN. Whenever I have big plans to get things done, the land calls me to put it all aside and get outside. It's not that I don't get things done, it's that my plans are often interrupted by nature's schedule. If I wake up and it's sunny, I put my shoes on and go. I want to be down on Dungeness Spit breathing in the salty air and hearing the waves roar. While I'm walking, I often close my eyes and drink it all in with my entire body. I breathe in the sun, sand, wind, salt, breeze, clouds, waves and bird calls. My body vibrates with all of it. I feel stripped down to the core essentials out here.

After hiking at the Spit today, I headed to my bank to cash a check and decided to stock up on some food. I hadn't been to the store in a few days and truthfully, I didn't really want to be amongst shoppers who all had the potential of being carriers of this disease. Every time I'd hear a cough, it would propel me to wander away from whatever aisle I was on to one that was empty or sparsely populated. I'm trying not to buy into the fear, but it's there. I'd like to believe it hasn't made its way to Sequim, but my answer was there in the hand sanitizer section where I stopped in front of a gaping hole of nothingness. Same with the toilet paper section. I'd have to let those go for now.

Back in my car, I took 5th Ave past Old Olympic Highway to Evans Road. I passed trumpeter swans breeding in a nearby field of a farm with a worn-out red barn. Not a single car passed me on those roads. I turned left on Dungeness-Sequim Highway and then a right on Woodcock Road making my way past Graysmarsh Farm, a huge estate that seems to go on forever and where you can pick blueberries and strawberries in the summer, but not much is happening there right now.

I often wonder what I'm doing out here. I'm 50 years old and I'm living at home. That's the stuff people talk over fences in hushed voices with their neighbors about and here I am doing it, without toilet paper even. What has the world come to? What have I come to?

On the outside, things may look dire. But on the inside I feel this unbelievable gratitude for my life and I feel the earth vibrate with an incredible goodness. I feel the wildlife on it calling everyone to stop and listen. I feel I am a witness to this language that has no words. I move with the wind. I feel the rhythm of the earth out here. I feel the native energy. Nearby my family's house is the grave of Native American Chief Lord James Balch. There's a huge eagle totem there to honor him. He was one of the first natives to pool money together with fellow tribesmen to purchase 210 acres that is known as Jamestown. It's not a reservation, it's owned by the natives. I walk past this great chief's grave to the beach frequently. The energy is so strong around there. And I have dreams of a world that is calling us back to our origin. It's calling us back to when we listened and knew. Yes, I'm remembering this language that has no words. It comes to me in dreams.

I am not going crazy, but the world might be. I'm stopping and I'm listening and I'm hearing.

In January, there was a snowstorm that hit The Peninsula quite hard. I was alone out in Sequim. The wind was howling through the trees and shaking the windows. Right before the power went out, I found a dream I wrote on paper about the end of the world. Minutes after I finished reading it, everything went dark. I felt along the wall to the living room where I knew I had candles and matches and I  lit candles all around the room and lit the gas fireplace. I was warm inside, but I wanted to feel the swirl of nature outside, at least for a few minutes. I stepped out into the howling wind and felt cold snowflakes hit my face. I was barefoot on the deck. I could see the glowing red eyes of deer huddled under pine trees. They had been sleeping there in front of the house for a month unafraid. I felt their presence daily and knew they had messages for me. Back inside, I piled blankets on top of me and huddled in front of the gas fire place and read my dream again.

I have lost the piece of paper with the dream on it. I know it's somewhere. Anyway, here's the gist of it:

People were in a panic. There was some kind of tsunami happening and waves were crashing all around and buildings were falling down. People were running through the streets screaming and police cars were zooming around with their sirens blaring, but I was inside an old cave watching all of this from afar as if watching it on a movie screen. It was real and in front of me, but I was not part of the madness. An old man with a very long beard, I imagine Confucius to look like, was sitting cross-legged in the dirt also watching. Just then I grabbed a stick and began to draw a line in the dirt. I drew two inches forward and three inches backwards. My hand moved effortlessly and I don't recall I knew what I was doing with my logical mind or even if I was doing it. The old man bowed to me and told me it was about balancing the planet. I felt very calm and collected and sure that things would work out and rebalance. There was nothing to do, it was more about be-ing.

I don't believe it is about magic or miracles or anything out of the ordinary. I just believe it's about tuning in and listening. Most of our lives we move in the way our fellow humans move. If one person panics, we all begin to panic. What if we didn't panic and follow the crowd, but chose to really stop and listen deep within and move from there? What if we allowed our deep inner experiences to guide us on the outside rather than allowing the outside to dictate our inner state. I'm letting my inner compass guide me out here. I'm completely unafraid. I trust things will work out even if everything looks like it's falling apart and more importantly, even if there's no more toilet paper.

The Lucky One

Hello fellow Earthlings,

I'm cut off from most social media out in Sequim. In fact, it's hard for me to get phone service where I am.

 I went into the city early on Wednesday for my class at the college and spent the night at a friend's in Greenwood. It was nice being in my old, familiar stomping grounds of Seattle, but the pace was also intense. Everything in the city has been created to make humans comfortable. I walk into Whole Foods and it's like walking into Las Vegas, only with food. In fact, I swear I heard some sort of electronic sound that seemed to mimic a winning on a slot machine.

The day after my class, the creature comforts were actually welcome. I didn't have much to do that day and I found myself browsing in East West Bookshop above Whole Foods. I walked around and looked at native jewelry and picked up tarot card decks and sat in the back with a book from the Used Book section of the store.

Then, I wandered back down to Whole Foods and drank a Kombucha and filled out a Valentine's Day Card for my boyfriend. He just got a new place in the city. Originally, the plan was for him to move to Sequim with me, but all his work is in the Seattle area, so it made more sense for him to be there. It's strange, we are in a relationship, but I hardly see him. I will see him tomorrow. I bought him a housewarming gift for his new place. It's good that he has a place in the city, because it makes it easier for me when I'm in town and need a place to stay.

Whenever I come back to Sequim, out here on the Peninsula of Washington State, everything slows way down. It's hard for me to move at a fast pace. I feel like there is a lot of healing going on here. I haven't written as much as I've wanted to. I feel I will write more, but I've been called to pay deep attention to each moment.

Today the sun outside pulled me towards The Spit and I walked way down the beach late in the afternoon. The waves were calm and the tide was out. It was pleasant and warm. My heart loves the ocean. It comes alive there. I like looking at the vastness of it. It's like looking at emptiness.

I took a stick I found on the beach and began to draw words in the sand: book, house, love. After I wrote these words, I enjoyed watching the gentle waves roll up on to the beach and erase them. Just like that they were gone, out to sea.

And I feel like the lucky one to have this time. Somehow in this life I'm living I have created time for inner work. It's so valuable to me. In fact, it's the most important work I'm doing. It's very subtle. Sometimes it feels I'm doing nothing at all and wasting time, but when I slow down, I can actually feel so much happening on the inside.

I move as slow as the animals move out here. Did you know that when you slow down and feel each movement, wild animals will come very close? You are moving at their speed. They can sense your gentleness. You are speaking their language.

I want to speak the language of the Earth.

I'm in a comfortable house out here that protects me from the outside. Today I received a text from a friend who I hadn't heard from in a very long time. He didn't write any words, he just sent me a link to Alison Krauss's song "The Lucky One." And when I listen to the words, I can really feel that this is my life.

You're the lucky one so I've been told
As free as the wind blowing down the road
Loved by many, hated by none
I'd say you are lucky 'cause 
You know what you've done
Not a care in the world, not a worry in sight
Everything is gonna be alright 'cause 
You're the lucky one....

It's not that life is easy or without problems. There are problems. The world can be fierce and crazy sometimes and, like the waves out on The Spit which can take everything in their wake, it can toss and turn us and leave us flat on our asses, pardon my French.

But deep under that ocean is a calm. It's available at any time. All the dramas in the world are the waves. They just keep coming.

Instead of letting these dramas, or waves, get stuck in me, I'm experimenting with letting them wash over me and not suck me out to sea.

I want to ride the waves, not fight them.

I'm working with boundaries and what feels right to me in any given moment and I'm not afraid anymore of the uncomfortableness that it creates to speak my truth.

I stepped out onto the deck of the house at around 10pm because I heard coyotes howling. I was barefoot and the cold against my skin woke me up. Is it a full moon? I wondered. I saw the big dipper, it was straight up and down so that the dipper was pointing towards the earth as if it were pouring its sparkly brilliance onto the green grass of the golf course. I then walked out the front door in search of the moon. No moon. All was quiet in the small suburb where I am staying. There were lights shining from windows in all the little houses and I imagined people were snug and warm inside. How lucky we all are to have food, shelter, hot water, etc. Most of us have the essentials and the rest is icing on the cake.

We are not here to own and fight and worry and fear. We are passing through this place to love and to  learn lessons and then we will return to that great big ocean that we came from, all of us drops of it.

We are the lucky ones to be here and have this opportunity to be alive.

We are the lucky ones...

Hello Darkness, Hello Light

Dear Earthlings,

I was alone in the house organizing a few of my boxes of things, when everything went dark and silent. I stepped out of the bedroom and felt along the wall to the living room where I knew I had a candle and lighter. The wind was howling outside and it must have blown the power out. I stepped out on the deck and could see swirls of snow spin on the golf course like mini tornadoes. I was aware that it was getting colder inside the house. I found other candles and lit them. Eventually, I found a flashlight.

The strangest thing was that as I was going through a box of my writing, I found a loose piece of paper with a dream written on it about the end of the world. Every night I've been dreaming these dreams again. I see buildings falling down and water flooding streets. Somehow I'm able to just observe it all, as if I'm watching a movie. I see it happening, but I'm strangely not affected by it. Instead of jumping into the swirl of chaos and panic with everyone else, I stand a distance back and observe. Somehow, in my observing of the chaos, I get answers and solutions, but they hard to put into words because they come from the dream realm.

I know that I'm meant to be out here. In the dark last night, I felt I should be scared, but I wasn't. Instead, I felt a kind of returning. We have lost connection to the darkness. We depend so much on light. Without electricity to fuel our devices and appliances, we are lost.

In the darkness, with just a candle, I felt a deep connection to the wild world outside. Just before dawn, before the power went out, five deer walked in a single-file line past my bedroom window. They seemed to glide with extreme grace, ears twitching with alertness.

These animals bring me to the answers. This is native land. What's the point of being out here if I don't take time to tune in.

I could not walk yesterday in the blizzard-like winds. I watched the snow rapidly accumulate outside the living room window. By the late afternoon, the snow was blowing sideways towards the window and then the wind would shift and it would blow in another direction. After the power went out, I gathered candles, a flash light, warm clothes, a down comforter and hunkered down in the living room near the gas fireplace.

Around 11pm, the power was restored and I returned to the bedroom.

I awoke when light began to stream in through the blinds. It was quiet outside. I did not hear wind. I got up and made myself some tea and returned to the bedroom to get dressed. I bundled up in a long down jacket, scarf, hat and gloves before leaving the house.

I walked along the property line of Graysmarsh farm towards Graysmarsh Beach. All of a sudden I began to hear trumpets. I thought I was going crazy. The sun was hitting the snow and making everything extremely bright. Through a gap in the trees that created a boundary around the farm, I saw huge white swans, that I later learned were trumpeter swans, flying in circles above the fields of snow on the farm. They literally sounded like trumpets.

It was beautiful and heavenly. The image of huge white swans above bright, white snow making the most angelic sound touched me to my core and opened my heart. I don't know the language of these animals I see, but I often times I feel like I do. They all call me to slow down and tune in. Maybe that is the answer.

People talk of darkness and it is there. I don't watch the news out here and I've stopped Facebook for awhile. I want my media to come from nature. It's been speaking for a long time.

I feel every moment I'm able to step lightly on the Earth and listen, it's another moment of awakening to a world that has always been there for us and only asks us to listen.

The Spaces Between Doing and Being

Hello fellow Earthlings,

I woke up this morning with the awareness that the Earth was covered in a blanket of snow. Everything on the Earth was very still. I couldn't see it, but I could sense it and I knew. I walked through the dark hallway to the living room and pulled open the blinds that confirmed my thoughts. A deer stood there in the snow staring at me. They seem to come all the time now and very close to the house. We locked eyes for what seemed like a few minutes before it began munching on grass that poked through the snow. Then, all of a sudden, as if it had been called by something in the wind, it turned and walked across the golf course leaving fresh hoof prints in the otherwise untouched blanket of white. It didn't walk in a straight line. It created a curvy pathway back to the bushes on the edge of the golf course. The curves were perfectly symmetrical, almost as if the snow was cut with a cookie cutter of waves. As the morning moved along, those hoof prints became deep grooves that left a mark. It was just one squiggle on a blank page of white. It was an invitation to pause before I began to write.

And it seemed like every time I wanted to write, the moment pulled me in again.

It's now evening. I fired up the sauna on the deck. When I plug it in, lights and music come on. I waited until it reached 105 degrees before I got in. I sat in there and drank lemon water and journaled. What a luxury to be out here alone to write and prepare my online class for the college. How fortunate to have this blank canvas to create. I breathed in the dry cedar and let it warm me to the bone. After an hour I came out and my deer friend was sitting on a snowy hill in the dark, legs gently tucked under her, staring at me through soft snowflakes that swirled around before they found a suitable place to land.

I turned off the sauna. One button shuts off the whole machine, heat music, lights and all. It was me and the deer in the dark. I started to feel a chill enter my body standing there now with snow all around and I hurried inside to warm up. I immediately went and showered and pulled on a pair of sweats, wool socks, a t-shirt, cashmere sweater and and my favorite lambswool scarf that I got on a trip to New Zealand a few years ago.

Earlier in the day,  I walked out to Graysmarsh Beach to the eagle totem pole and walked further out on to the frigid beach with blue glacier-like water. It was so cold that even the seagulls took shelter on a nearby neighborhood street. I stared out past the water to the snowy banks of land dotted with houses that were also covered in snow. So quiet. I could smell cedar burning in wood stoves and it warmed me inside to know that people were snug in their own spaces.

On the way back, a few cars wandered down Woodcock Road. The roads were pretty clear and I imagined people were going about their day regardless of the weather conditions. I suppose I could have scraped the snow from my car and made it down to the post office to send off some bills and letters, but I felt like everything on the planet was calling me to stop. So I did.

I keep trying to understand what I am meant to do. I keep trying to grab a hold of a thread or a clue or a sign. I created a list to keep me on task, but the moments unfold on their own. If everything is planned, I miss what's right here.

Right.
Here.

I did knock some things off that list. I prepared my online class, did a load of laundry, emailed a few people. But between each task, there's a huge pause. Even typing these words feels a bit like wading through molasses. Even if I want my fingers to flutter across the keys, they don't. Maybe I meant to find the answers in the spaces between doing and being.