Yesterday was long.
Returning from yesterday, all I wanted was sweet sleep or at least putting up my feet. And friends are floating, each of us in a dance that looks like being caught between generations.
The other generations have prickly edges - we keep getting caught in them. We seem to be defined by the space between them. There are not enough of us, and our struggles and successes and experiences will always be blended into the shinier or louder generations on either side of us.
But we are here now, individual and collective, navigating the gears of the world. My friends and I are not having a fantastic gearjumping month - each difficult in their own way.
So last night a friend called. "I think I am having a breakdown."
I listened and heard the crackling. This wasn't a phone thing, but there was no hysteria.
"OK, leave where you are. Come over here. We'll break it down." He asked the Keeper of the Generations in his house if that would work. She told him to come.
It was selfish in some ways. I had already used up a bunch of my allotted gearjumping for the day, I thought I could help, but not on the phone. And sometimes place is important. I knew he needed a break of place to move out of the things holding him. Instead of bed, I made some coffee.
My other friends checked in with the status of their navigations - some bad news, some good news, some secrets where we could hear the emptiness of the unsaid. That last one was mostly from me.
And we all shared our hope for the breaking friend and then he came to the door with his briefcase full of depression and anxiety and society, and his immediate need to pack and escape with his family.
And I was happy that he came, because it might have been easier not to. Sometimes your shamanistic journeys are only two or three miles down the road.
So I asked him the right questions and he started with the regular answers and then he saw the circus in my living room. Because everyone should have one.
And he smiled and got down on the floor like a five year old and peeked inside.
It is impossible to stay in a breakdown state when faced with a circus full of Poppets.
Everyone loves a circus. We played with it for a little bit and then worked out the answers that would be good enough for now.
It broke the pattern and freed him up from the sharp edges for a bit. My living room is bigger on the inside than the out.
The denizens of Poppetropolis were pleased to be of help.
I was pleased to be of help.
But it's the morning after midnight and I'm very tired now.