Feeling

Propelled

June 2, 2015

outfitdress

I wish I could tell that I have it all together. Maybe you think I do. The outfit above (I called warrior princess in October’s #30daysofdresses) is one in my badass arsenal, but don’t let my smile fool you. I am all OMG PEOPLE. JUST.GO.AWAY.

I wish that I could hide in bed, reading The Secret History and sleeping away this June Gloom day. But my horoscope begs otherwise:

You are definitely not out of the woods yet, Pisces… your itch to disappear are concerned. Please think of this uncomfortable moment, then, as a training-course in how to tolerate emotionally-disquieting internal conditions while remaining largely present and available to meet your end of all pertinent bargains, particularly those which are work-related. And just to be clear, it’s still considered a ‘bargain’ you’ve committed to even if you are the only person who’ll be let down by your lack of follow-through. Regular job duties, health-promoting habits, and other mundane responsibilities would presently be the best sector in which to seek solace and support (even if your untrustworthy brain tries telling you that letting things fall, betraying healthful limits, and/or playing hooky would be the way to go).

I am up late and on an 8am work call. But before that, I show up for my personal commitment, like I’m warned to do. A quick writing session with Sherry – her stories and voice a tiny massage for my emotions. Putting pen to paper, reading aloud how I feel, which I didn’t even understand until I wrote it out, is magic. It propels me through the morning.

Where I continue to show up – eeking out time for a 12min rollerblade with the dog and a hot shower and an even hotter chai latter while I work from a coffee shop before another meeting. Sending emails, reply all, typing typing typing. The phone buzzes text messages, the phone rings for calls. We have no food in the fridge, I have no clean socks to wear, my back is a series of intricate knots that pull and lock up if I move the wrong way.

This is not as bad as I felt in October, and certainly not as terrible as how I started 2015, but it still feels like crap. And I’m just sending it out there, as a marker. The little things I can get done for myself – the writing, the hot bath I took last night, the quick phone calls with good friends – these all buoy me as I ride the rapids of this time, knowing this is not my life forever.

I am propelled, not drowning. I am taking the active approach.

This is just a moment, a season, and I will make it through.

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