Just Thought I'd Share This Here Too, Please Stay Safe You Guys

A really important concept to grasp is that just doing to smallest thing you can will help.

Need to change and wash your sheets but you can’t being yourself to do it? Just change the pillowcases. Just make the bed. Just wiping off the crumbs is enough.

Need to read a paper and do a write up? Just read the paper. Just listen to the paper through a screen reader. Just skim the sections and the first line. Just read the abstract.

Need to clean a mountain of dirty dishes? Just clean the big things. Just soak the things that need to be soaked. Just gather all the dishes into the sink.

The real key here is that you might just get that one small thing done, but likely what will happen is you’ll finish it and realize ‘hey that wasn’t so bad, I’m already here, what else can I do?’ And you’ll end up finishing the task.

But again, even if you just do the one small thing, that’s worth celebrating, it’s worth being proud of, because it was hard, but you did it. Sleeping in dirty sheets is better than sleeping on dirty sheets with crumbs. Reading the abstract is better than reading nothing, and gathering the dishes is better than leaving them out.

one of the best ways i’ve found to combat that inherent depressive pessimism without veering into toxic positivity territory is simply the phrase “i’m open to the possibility”

this particularly works with anything negative i’ve forecasted. “i woke up feeling like shit today, so my day is gonna suck” isn’t a particularly helpful thought, but “it’s a great day to be alive!!!!!” feels hollow and insincere when i have a pounding headache & am running on three hours of sleep

instead i’ll tell myself, “i really don’t feel good right now, but i’m open to the possibility that coffee and breakfast might perk me up a bit.” or “i’m in a lot of pain today, but i’m open to the possibility that my workday might still have fun parts despite that”

sometimes, when your impulse is to slam the door on anything good, but you’re not exactly up to going out & hunting it down yourself, leaving the door open just a crack makes all the difference

Thank you New York :: Protesting the Opus Dei court 6:24:2022

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Right To Life By Marge Piercy A woman is not a basket you place your buns in to keep them warm. Not a brood hen you can slip duck eggs under. Not the purse holding the coins of your descendants till you spend them in wars. Not a bank where your genes gather interest and interesting mutations in the tainted rain, any more than you are. You plant corn and you harvest it to eat or sell. You put the lamb in the pasture to fatten and haul it in to butcher for chops. You slice the mountain in two for a road and gouge the high plains for coal and the waters run muddy for miles and years. Fish die but you do not call them yours unless you wished to eat them. Now you legislate mineral rights in a woman. You lay claim to her pastures for grazing, fields for growing babies like iceberg lettuce. You value children so dearly that none ever go hungry, none weep with no one to tend them when mothers work, none lack fresh fruit, none chew lead or cough to death and your orphanages are empty. Every noon the best restaurants serve poor children steaks. At this moment at nine o’clock a partera is performing a table top abortion on an unwed mother in Texas who can’t get Medicaid any longer. In five days she will die of tetanus and her little daughter will cry and be taken away. Next door a husband and wife are sticking pins in the son they did not want. They will explain for hours how wicked he is, how he wants discipline. We are all born of woman, in the rose of the womb we suckled our mother’s blood and every baby born has a right to love like a seedling to sun. Every baby born unloved, unwanted, is a bill that will come due in twenty years with interest, an anger that must find a target, a pain that will beget pain. A decade downstream a child screams, a woman falls, a synagogue is torched, a firing squad is summoned, a button is pushed and the world burns. I will choose what enters me, what becomes of my flesh. Without choice, no politics, no ethics lives. I am not your cornfield, not your uranium mine, not your calf for fattening, not your cow for milking. You may not use me as your factory. Priests and legislators do not hold shares in my womb or my mind. This is my body. If I give it to you I want it back. My life is a non-negotiable demand.

hope is a skill

it doesn’t have to be good it just has to be done

there are days where things dont go like you wanted them to go. the weather is gray and the wind is cold. you miss your bus. you miss a deadline. someone rejects you. you’re late for an appointment. but it’s okay. opportunities will present themselves again. there’s always the next bus. there will always be someone who wants to hug you. the weather will get warmer. i will feel the sun on my face again soon. i know it will be okay. we’re going to be okay.

I'm gonna reblog with some videos of people speaking various American Indian/indigenous American languages, because I think most people don't even know what they sound like. Not to be judgement of that—just, you know, I think people who want to be informed should know what they sound like!