Meditations for Queer Femmes – Living for the Apocalypse

Today I was much on the phone with my mother’s health insurance company as I sort out claims and coverage.

            “Do you mind if I place you on that hold?” says the agent, and I listen to the same strange riff of repeating music. “Ooh, wah wah!” sing the ladies, and suddenly I’m having a slight out-of-body experience, rather common lately, to tell you the truth, where I sort of float sideways and stand beside myself, thinking, “Hmm, what exactly is going on here?”

            My 89-year old mother just got out of the hospital, and is currently receiving 24/7 home health care at her assisted living facility. There wasn’t a diagnosis for her changed behavior and constant dozing, but one of the aides told me that my mom had been up six times the night before, wanting to get ready to go down to breakfast. I guess every time she wakes up, she has a sense of urgency that she needs to be somewhere. Which, come to think of it, might be a big reason her behavior was off: she has completely exhausted herself.

            It’s pretty obvious that she needs another level of care so that her energy and attention can be gently redirected and she can get a little assistance staying in the reassuring present moment without stressing that she’s got something else she’s supposed to be doing. That’s what I was working on today for her – ooh, wah wah! – as I waited on the phone. I am very glad to do it, too, because she can’t manage on her own anymore; she can’t even express what might or might not be troubling her.

            Oh darlings, aren’t we, too, a bit weary of living for the apocalypse? Waiting, preparing for the very worst? How might we get off that hamster wheel? Give our belabored adrenals a rest?

            Sweet petals of femme daintiness, times are strange and getting stranger. Some things we have absolutely no control over, and yet they affect us and will direct us into a frenzy if we aren’t careful.

            Do, oh do, be careful with yourselves and your direction today, my lambs.

            Let the apocalypse recede with the ooh wah wahs, place it on that hold, and stay here, with me, with yourself, with the dear and the good and the present.

            Deep roots, feet on the ground, as the old wise world goes round.

Every Monday, I offer a Meditation for Queer Femmes, in the spirit of my maternal grandmother, Mimi, who was fabulous, and from whom I inherited her Meditations for Women.

At the Total Femme, my intention is to post three times a week: Meditations for Queer Femmes on Monday, Pingy-Dingy Wednesday on Wednesday, and Femme Friday on Friday. Rather than play catch-up in a stressful fashion on those weeks when life prevents posting, I have decided to just move gaily forward: if I miss a Monday, the next post will be on Wednesday, and so on. Thank you, little bottle of antibiotics for inspiring me in this! (“…if it’s almost time for the next dose, skip the missed dose and continue your regular dosing schedule. Don’t take a double dose to make up for a missed one.”) And…as I go through graduate school and life life life, I will post as I am able, Mabel.

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2 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. I’m sorry to hear about your mom, my dear! And those are worthy goals for all of us. I can relate!! Hugs to you. Xo

  2. Love to you, and thank you! To health and connection and quiet in this new year! Thanks for stopping by. xottf


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