I feel as if I’m watching the world from behind sheer cotton gauze. I get so caught up in daily life and the grind of work that when I stop, sometimes my insides keep going without me. Things get out of focus, tilting from one side to another, completely off-kilter.
Inertia is a cruel task-masker.
Sometimes, I just have to stop, put my head in my hands, take off my glasses and close my eyes.
Sometimes, it requires concerted effort to breathe and be still.
But sometimes, if I can be still long enough, my insides and outside..merge. They come into alignment, and everything becomes clear.
I haven’t been getting enough of these clear, still moments lately I’ve been crashing through life like a human bumper-car, and it’s starting to take its toll.
My wife Kathryn is studying to be a life coach. She is quite wise and will undoubtedly be a fantastic coach. She hasn’t dubbed me The Family Guinea Pig™ yet, but she will put on her “Coach Hat” from time to time, if I ask nicely.
I asked her nicely.
I asked her nicely, what the hell is wrong with me? I asked her how I could find my balance again. What did I have to do?
She told me I got the questions all wrong. The question is not, what do I do? The question is, who am I?
“Start from the who,” she always says.
Always start from the who.
What the hell does that mean? There’s no paper you can read, no test you can take, no questionnaire to fill out that can answer the question of who you are..
This is where the real work starts, I tell myself. This is where you have to ask the hard questions. This is where you have to listen for the answers you’ve been avoiding all your life.
Civilizations crumble beneath the weight of questions like this.
And here I am, on a Saturday night, asking the questions that have no easy answers.
Who am I? What are my values? What does my authentic life look like?
I anticipate a few introspective days in the near future.
Sleep well, my dears, and dream of the truth.
Background Music: Mozart : Galimathias Musicum (Quodlibet) 1/3 : 1-7
One of the challenges of opening myself up to the universe and my place within it is that I make myself vulnerable. Normally, I can handle that vulnerability. Yesterday morning, though, I got rattled.
When I walked out the apartment, I realized we’d forgotten to lock the car. Someone had rifled through our glove compartment and the compartment between the seats. They’d made no efforts to hide what they’d done–the contents were thrown all over the seats and floor.
Fortunately, nothing was taken (we never leave anything of value in the car), but my shields were shattered. I was in no condition to deal with the stress at work, which was at the usual pre-holiday high mark. Needless to say, I came home shaken and exhausted.
When something like that happens, I have a tendency to crawl back into my hole and sleep until I feel safe again. It’s a normal response. I want a cocoon, preferably of the steel variety, to protect me from Teh Scary.
As humans, we need a sense of home and safety. There must be a circle of space around us that is ours, incorruptible and pristine. When that space is breached, we feel lost and afraid.
So, how do you recreate that safe space when it’s been crossed?
I talked to my wife. I talked to my friends. I remember that I am more than my body and my house and my car and my job.
Whoever decided to trash my car was looking for something–money, a gun, maybe. They found nothing. But I will not let them destroy my security.
Tonight, I will sleep well, and my dreams will be sweet.
I hope your’s are too.
Contacted Balboa Press to learn more about self-publishing. Stomach is in knots, especially since I don’t have a finished product. On the other hand, making a start at something puts me ahead of 90% of the rest of the people.