The COVID Diaries: Bringer of Life

Hi Darling Ones,

As you know I’m not particularly religious or spiritual. I call myself agnostic because while I’m certain there isn’t a white bearded man in the sky judging us, I do believe there is something magical in the universe. Maybe that’s what God is? I don’t know. Organized religion strikes me as cult-like and while I find the rituals of my childhood Catholicism very soothing, I mostly only worship Ellen Willis and peanut butter.

I bring this up for two reasons.

One, I enjoy astrology. I don’t entirely understand how it all works. I know all my signs: Gemini sun, Aries moon, and Scorpio rising, but I don’t know what it means. I do, though, heartily enjoy the many astrology memes I see on Instagram and sometimes feel personally attacked by the Gemini ones. You should know it’s officially Gemini season now and that probably means something special is in store for me. I don’t know what Gemini season means yet or how it relates to Geminis, but I’ll try to find out sometime tomorrow. I was too busy with the thinking and the work to figure out today.

Two, I like the idea of old souls, or people who are said to have old souls. I think that bits and pieces of us get recycled into the magic of the universe and some of those bits land in other humans and provides them with some kind of insight or wisdom. That being said, I’m pretty sure I’m a young soul. Probably a brand, spanking new soul. Like this is my first trip through the universe and everything is brand new information to me. I’m also going to blame this newness on the complete lack of common sense I often display and which my sisters tease me about mercilessly.

Since I’m brand new, I don’t think I’ve had a past life as a farmer. However, one of the people I get recycled into will definitely be a farmer or avid gardener. I know this because while I’ve been really stressed and busy working this week every time I took a break I would grab my bucket of hopefully-wildflowers from the window sill. I’d look into the dirt searching for sprouts, saying, “grow seeds, please grow, I love you already.” There are currently eight little sprouts in the dirt and each time I look at them I say to Wendell, or the empty room, “I AM THE BRINGER OF LIFE!”

That’s all I got. My brain is mush, but I think I’m nearly done with the first phase of this project. Tonight it’s nothing but frozen pizza and my lover, Top Chef.

Jodi

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