The day after my year of doing different I am feeling quite crossed and unpleasant. I feel ugly meanness and not niceness oozing out of me. I decide that I would try to go into quietness and sit with it for awhile. Maybe I can befriend the feeling and see where it goes. I will try the newness of not fixing. It will be difficult, for I’m the fix-myself queen.
The tap tap on the keyboard has a soothing rhythm. I’m feeling and listening to the sound. It reminds me of Rhythm of the Falling Rain.
I hear the opening bar of thunder, then the cascading falling of the rain, the melody and simple lyrics. It’s pretty, it’s lovely. My body moves to the rhythm. My lips mouth the words. I am not stirring up more uglies in me.
The wrinkles in my mind are ironed out, the uglies and meanness recede. Only I had felt them. They are not my outerwear. They are not broadcast over loudspeaker system. I am not what I feel. I do not have to repent and do 50 hours of community work. I am saved from myself by myself. Hallelujah!
What I know for sure is the earth is round. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. It will do so every day unless we screw up and self destruct. What goes up must come down. I am not unique. Therefore I am not alone in my feelings. There are good habits and then there are bad habits. What I know for sure is I’ve strengthened my good ones during the 365 days of doing different. No matter how I feel, I get up, dress up and show up. It is a very good motto. Work it!
It’s been 2 months since I’ve last sat here. I’m fighting the urge to rise and make myself another cup of tea/coffee. It’s uncomfortable being in this space again, trying to tap, tap out the letters, words, thoughts. The space is bigger, wider. I’m a little lost, sloshing around, trying to find and touch the boundaries. I’m like the little seedlings starting out. They/I like the snugness of a small space. Our roots/limbs to feel the sides and edges. I like to think I’m more pliable though. I can s-t-r-e-t-c-h, reaching for the stars. I can grow. I have grown, haven’t I? There! Now I’ve earned that time out for that cuppa before continuing.
I have my cuppa decaf. Somehow I feel better having something to sip on. It’s better/healthier than a lit cigarette on an ashtray. That’s my old self – a cigarette before/while doing. That’s one way I have grown – physically healthier. I’m leaner and less mean, thanks to my three times a week aerobics class and a swim once a week. The mean part is mostly in my mind. I don’t think I’m a mean person but I always fault myself for not being kinder, for being such a grump and ranting so much. I still have those feelings sometimes. I no longer mind my inability to be ‘kinder’. I’m kinder to myself. I rant because I’m not one for status quo and don’t rock the boat. How can things improve that way? I’ll be like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, waking up to the same day, same tune on the radio every day.
Practice makes for better. It’s a good place to stop. I like challenges. Everything is a challenge to me. And I grumble about the hardness of all that. But the grumbling is me trying to find that comfort zone, that snugness, the space to breathe in and out and to start again. What I know for sure is that we have to start – again and again, discarding what doesn’t work, keeping the good stuff.
onethousandandtwo 