Before the fog of this week, I tried my hand at making bone broth. On Sunday I planned to split the completed stock in half, setting aside part of it for immediate consumption and freezing the balance for Thanksgiving gravy. I purchased a whole organic chicken, I dutifully cooked it all day with flavorful vegetables and then safely cooled it and set it in my refrigerator, feeling excited that I had finally been proactive in my thanksgiving preparations and simultaneously done something healthy for my family.
And then Trump won the election.
I can’t begin to tell you how much this activity rooted me to the spot. I can say that since Tuesday night I have made little to no progress on any projects to get the house ready for visiting relatives or to stock up on provisions for our family’s biggest eating holiday. I have been paralyzed by sorrow, crippled by a reality that defies the very basis of my reality. I keep on thinking, this just can’t be. Except it is.
In my shock, the completed bone broth, so ambitiously and lovingly made has now gone completely unconsummed, unfrozen and sour. The potential for future good has been dashed, wasted. The parallels are not lost on me.
This of course is the reality of only half of the country (actually, the current count is that it is a little more than half the country). If it is not your reality, I understand if you wish to stop reading now. I can emphathize with the plight of some people who felt disinfranchized under the current administration, but let me just say I don’t believe any of his policies sought people out for specific levels of punishment or sanction because of who they were. Under the president-elect’s administration, I am greatly fearful that whole aspects of who I am now stands squarely in his cross hairs. But I digress.
The point of this post is that November is beset with the best of intentions, of promises that may go unfulfilled. That’s in large part because of the nature of a Nine Universal year where even actions undertaken with great forthought can be abandoned because you just need a break. Nine says to us “big stuff is going to end. Soonish. You might want to pause and think about that”.
Circumstances essentially force you to vacate your former plans (and dear reader this is true even if you voted for Trump) in favor of a breather.
Want another example emblematic of the drag on momentum that November projects? I had a totally different column, essentially written and ready to go on October 28 and instead of posting it, I continued to edit and fuss around with it until a series of personal dramas took center stage, stalling my forward motion. And then Tuesday came. And no column was posted. And here we are.
Sure, your mileage may vary. Perhaps you made allowances for the slow down and kept your schedule light. You understood beforehand that a certain capaciousness was necessary to make it through this month. If you proceeded thusly, kudo’s to you. The rest of us are playing catch up.
How to maximize the rest of the month
So…the take home point for November is that it is appropriate and proper to give yourself a time out. Ring the bell for recess and then go fishing. A break will really do you good.
And one more thing…
Please don’t be mislead by the fact that the election is over. It’s likely that confusing times are NOT over. Tomorrow we slide into a Taurus New Moon which will shake loose another predicament or two, putting you further behind. All I can say is…that’s the point. This isn’t the season of “doing”, no matter how much we might wish for the contrary. It’s the season of recovery and reconnecting to those invisible yet vital sources of support. Just step back, to family. To friends. To whatever gives you wholesome succor and relief.
Find your safe, soothing ground.