Crafting community care through liberatory literature and writing practices. - book coven access + monthly virtual workshops for inner & collective liberation. (for monthly virtual workshops/gatherings upgrade to a paid subscriber.)
Recently, a friend reached out to me with a simple question: "How are you feeling?" In that moment, I found myself grappling with the complexity of my emotions, and the words that escaped my lips were unexpectedly raw and honest: "I feel half alive." These words carried a weight that I had been carrying for some time but had struggled to articulate. They captured the essence of my current state - a sense of being caught in the in-between, neither fully alive nor completely numb.
I feel this sense of standing still while the world spins off its axis, ravenously spinning. The thread that keeps me grounded in the womb of our home is now tangled and stretched beyond its capacity.
I feel half alive.
My throat is in a constant battle with my ancestral tongue, wanting to rage with words that would be unforgiving to some, while I suffocate trying to keep them hidden.
I feel half alive.
The children, the children are dying. Murdered. MURDERED. And here, folks, is where humanity peaks – fighting for Stanley Cups and Trader Joe's totes instead of fighting against genocide.
I feel half alive.
When I pray, I can taste the unease that shapes my words, while trying to pull the essence of gratitude from behind my ribs.
I feel half alive.
Self-care it is then, but make it less about pretty baths and avocado toasts, and more about laying face down on the bed, waiting for the spirit guides to apologize for this level of fuckery.
Or I can just rip the grass out of the ground while screaming into the void of my numbness.
I feel half alive.
It was a simple question that I did not know I needed to hear. It was a moment of vulnerability that led to a deeper conversation about the highs and lows of life, the struggles we face, and the importance of self-awareness. As we delved into the depths of our emotions, I realized the power of being truly seen and heard by a friend who cared enough to check in. It was a reminder that it's okay not to be okay, and that sometimes, acknowledging our struggles is the first step towards healing and growth. In a society that often values strength and resilience above all else, admitting that we are only "half alive" can feel like a radical act of self-acceptance.
My strength no longer exists to hold it all together; it now sits with resilience, holding space for the life I will never know again.
It is a recognition of our humanity, our imperfections, and our capacity for change. It is an invitation to explore the shadows within ourselves and find the light that can guide us towards wholeness. So, to my friend who asked me how I was feeling, thank you for giving me the space to be vulnerable, for listening without judgment, and for reminding me that it's okay to not feel whole.
We’ve been through so much together, lifetimes even in just the last few years, and since October, well, it has not stopped. The oppressors have not stopped. The trauma has not stopped. It’s okay to not be okay, community. Opening up about this was hard and scary because I am used to being the voice of Spirit to help guide my community. But if I am not real with you, then I am not truly working towards a community that honors collective liberation. There is no liberation without truth, and the truth is, we need to crack ourselves open and let the roars within take us deeper into our healing and magic.
And so, I have decided to add community check-ins once a month. I’m here just to sit and listen. Today, I’m inviting you to hit that “comment” button below and tell ME something…anything…about yourself. Got a story to tell? Tell it. Just wanna say hi? Say hi!
The only true wholeness I want is an authentic one and so I will be in community with you until we can all come back to feeling. Alive.
Love, Juliet
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I made a mental note to read this when it was published but forgot. Im sitting in my shower listening to Palestinian music feeling the weight of everything on top of my body. The water wont wash the decades of brainwash and colonized lies away. i got the random memory that this post exists and felt the need to read it and holy shit was it everything i needed this week and more. Thank you so much for this Juliet. Your vulnerability empowers me that it truly is okay to not be okay and that self care does not always look as glamorous as social media portrays. Thank you for this and everything else you tirelessly do for collective liberation.🖤
Thank you for sharing and being vulnerable. I’m also feeling half alive. Maybe not alive at all. The past half year has introduced me to a new level of grief, of loneliness, of ache that I didn’t know was possible. I’m feeling completely hopeless, to be honest, but despite that, I’m trying to keep creating hope. To hope in action, in the small ways I can.