Something on its way. Hovering, like a leaf on the grass which trembles tickled by the breeze; either it clings to the grass in fear or its gathering force for lift off.
Something on its way. Birds quiet, dogs quiet, cats taken shelter, in the moments before the storm.
A shift, like the yard after a gust of wind, barely noticeable and seemingly insignificant at first glance.
It has come to me that 95% of the things that make me miserable are mere thoughts. The rest is under my control. I’ve realized in bits, like putting a puzzle together (but have to dig through couch cushions and the back of the closet to find all the pieces) that I can raise and lower these sails at will. I can drop the ore. I can jump out and swim for land. I can set up camp on the shore. I can take to the trail.
Through a childhood of abuse and neglect I learned helplessness, and thus in adulthood would regularly default to passivity. Adrift on the tide I went wherever I was taken. For years now I’ve been planning on someday becoming a real person, carefully ruminating, reading, making charts, making lists. Germinate. Ruminate. Gestate.
I looked up five years later and saw myself in the same spot; more frustrated, more tired, more sick. It seems there is no way to change but action. A simple one foot in front of the other. Bit by bit, brick by brick. Find one positive thing that I can do a day and do that one positive thing every day.
It started by me speaking up and saying I needed more raw vegetables, and snacks to take to work. Then I began eating breakfast every day. I rested there for sometime. Taking in the energy that the food and the sun gave to me. Then I began to meditate daily; this has been difficult, my brain is still busy, but I’m practicing. Then I began to add in multiple yoga sessions throughout my days; this has only worked on my days (day) off, but that’s still great. <— the thing about that one is it gets me off the bed, out of my head, and into my body. Its difficult to dwell in darkness when you’re in down dog. It just is.
That’s where I’m at. Three changes so far (and one that allows me to sit still in quiet score!). Three tiny steps out, three tiny strings cut, three bricks moved.
There is a chance that my mental disorders may be here to say. Up till now I’ve viewed them as temporary visitors who have over stayed their welcome but I just couldn’t tactfully figure out how to get them out. But after twenty five years there’s a high probability that they aren’t going anywhere. I don’t know much about mental disorder property law but I’m sure they’ve got well established squatters rights. So what now? Do I continue to lay low and hope I don’t disturb them, do I wait for them to leave, or do I learn how to cope?
I had a thought of doing that “don’t break the chain” positive habit forming thing that Jerry Seinfeld did. When I told my friends they thought it sounded mean and offered that I should do a paper chain and instead of “breaking it” if I missed a day, I should just change the color. That way its nicer, its prettier, and my “change in chain” is merely factual, without an emotional adjective attached. I thought it was great. I had a vision of one day my daughter coming to me and asking me what was with Mama’s paper chain… This is something I’ve dealt with for years, something I’ll probably continue to deal for years. But I don’t have to be ruled by it.
A shift, like the yard after a gust of wind, barely noticeable and seemingly insignificant at first glance.
“Do your practice and all is coming.”-Sri K Pattabhi Jois
-A.H.
No comments:
Post a Comment