My friend John Beckett is known for saying “It’s hard to meditate when your roof is leaking.”

My roof has been leaking this week. It’s been a nonstop slog of divorce bullshit and work bullshit, and I am just flat worn out. My spiritual practice this week has been “move the St. Expedite candle from the altar to the bathtub so it can continue to burn overnight” and my daily rounds of offerings to Ing Frey and my housewights. That’s all I’ve been able to manage, but it’s going to have to be enough.