Walking in Jello

She’s walking in jello

It’s lemon lime

And thick

Not enough water

For it to jiggle

“Make jello gelatin and make some fun”

Fun!

Might be okay, she guessed

But not enough water

For it to jiggle

It’s too thick

And it’s lemon lime

But she has no choice

She’s walking in jello

 

I wrote that this week.

Because that’s exactly where I’ve been.

Not depressed.

Not in crisis.

Not falling apart.

Just… thick.

Moving, but slowly.

Trying, but not quite getting there.

The world feeling heavy in that particular way it does when too many things are pulling at you at once and none of them are moving fast enough and somewhere in the background someone cheerful is suggesting you make jello and have some fun.

You know that someone.

Sometimes it’s the internet.

Sometimes it’s a well-meaning friend.

Sometimes it’s the voice in your own head that has read one too many productivity posts.

I’ve been ignoring that voice this week.

Mostly successfully.

When everything is hard for no single reason

Here’s the thing about jello-walking that’s hard to explain to people who aren’t in it:

There’s nothing dramatically wrong.

You can’t point to it.

You can’t fix it with a good night’s sleep or a walk around the block or a green smoothie.

It’s the accumulation.

Too many things pulling at once.

Trying hard and not quite seeing it move.

The world feeling collectively heavy in a way that gets into your bones whether you want it to or not.

And our whole culture — bless its heart — is absolutely terrible at sitting with that.

Everything wants to fix it, reframe it, hustle through it, or at least post something inspiring about it.

But some weeks you’re just in the jello. And that’s the whole truth of it.

You don’t have to explain why it’s thick. You’re allowed to just move slowly through it.

What the cards say about this

I pulled the Four of Cups this week, which made me laugh out loud because of course I did.

The Four of Cups is the card of stillness that looks like stuckness from the outside.

t’s someone sitting under a tree, arms crossed, while the universe keeps offering things — and they’re not reaching for any of them yet.

Not because they’re broken.

Not because they’ve given up.

But because they’re not ready.

Because they need to just sit there for a minute.

People read this card as apathy.

I read it as necessary pause.

Sometimes you need to be in the jello before you can figure out which direction is out.

Moving fast through it doesn’t help.

Beating yourself up for being in it doesn’t help.

The only thing that actually helps is letting it be what it is — temporary, thick, lemon lime — and trusting that you’ll find your footing again when it’s time.

Permission, if you need it

If you’re in the jello too right now — if everything feels like more effort than it should, if you’re moving but not getting traction, if the world just feels heavy and you can’t quite explain why — I want you to hear this:

You don’t have to fix it today.

You don’t have to make it make sense.

You don’t have to find the lesson or the silver lining or the action plan.

You don’t have to post about your journey or turn it into growth content or figure out which card explains it.

You’re allowed to just be in it.

Moving slowly.

A little stuck.

Doing your best in conditions that are, objectively, not ideal for forward motion.

The jello doesn’t last forever. It never does.

But you don’t have to pretend it isn’t there while you’re walking through it.

 

If you’ve been feeling this way and want some clarity on what’s underneath it — not to fix it, just to understand it — that’s exactly what a reading is for. I’m here when you’re ready.

Book your reading here