Today the sun plays hide and seek behind the clouds. The wind is sighing heavily through the spruce trees. I am spooked by the shadowing and heavy sighs. My skin crawls. I have to do. I can’t just sit and think. Questions, all kinds of whys and how comes would creep in and invade my head and infest my mind. Yesterday, I thought about
makingupdating my will and last testament. I thought about who/what causes to leave all my stuff to, whether they are worthy or not. Then I started thinking about relationships. What is and what is not. I make myself stop.
It’s better to do than to think. I took my tea out to my workstation on the deck. It was still coolish but the sun was out. The wind can’t find its way through the screen. I was warm and snug in my sanctuary. The index cards, brushes and paint were waiting for me to make a start. After the first stroke, I was away, absorbed in the process. Gone were the questions, the uncertainties and anxiety attached to them.
So what do you think of my little pouty Geisha? She kind of reminds me of my groupy self when I was little. I had those puffed out cheeks and down turned lips. Funny how I always paint myself. Perhaps it’s my alter ego wanting to come through. She’s trapped all these years and screaming to come out. Now she has an avenue through my art.
This is much better than letting the anxiety getting the better of me. Yes, I feel its creepy, crawling fingers on my skin, its stirring in my heart. I know its ways. I’m soothing and smoothing it down with my brushes and paint. I’m turning its energy in the creative rather than the destructive direction. True, Miss Pouty is not perfect. She is rather sweet though, slanted eyes and all.
I never like doing anything. If I didn’t know any better, I would rather curl up like a cat in the sun. I could easily not do anything but purr and sleep. I know that’s is not a good thing to do all the time. So I packed up my gym bag and headed out for the pool. It was wonderful. I had it all to myself. I can splash to my heart’s content. I can make a fool of myself. No one to witness except the lifeguard. What a good opportunity to practice my backstroke. I can relax with no one breathing down my back. Up the lane I front crawled. Down the lane I backstroked. I did well. I talked myself into 15 minutes, then 30 and at 45 minutes, it was good enough. It was excellent. It was better to do than to sit and brood.
It’s Good Friday. I’m feeling a tad sad. Not trying to sound poetic or anything. It’s just the way the words tumble out. I’m sitting here, sipping my infamous cup of tea. I’m tapping on the keyboard to soothe my soul. I know. I sound like a broken keyboard. But this is my space so I shan’t apologize for my repetitiveness. I’m doing what makes me feel good.
Ah, the sun is showing itself. Just in time, too. The tears were almost washing down my face. I see that some of my tomatoes and onions are poking their heads through the soil. They’re enough to bring a smile and stem the anxiety fluttering in my heart. How can one help it? The world has gone to hell in a handbasket – Paris, Belgium, my street. No place is safe. Was there ever?
Let me move on, away from the anxieties of the world. Let me hold on to what is near and dear. Better to count the eggs in the Easter basket than dwell on the world’s handbasket. Be here now. Everything is as it should be. There is nothing to fix.
This is the best part of my day, sitting in my space, tap, tapping out my words for #April Love and #April Moon. The letters and words fall from my fingertips. I inhale and exhale, one breath after another – like the words across my screen. My body feels the relief, the shedding of tightly coiled emotions and tension. I am saved for another day.
I am a very obsessive person. This, I now know. It has not been very healthy for me. My obsessiveness have spiralled me into a vortex of anxieties and other related health issues. So my current obsession is not to be obsessive (laughing
out loud not so loudly). I’m trying to remain soft and pliable and bend like the graceful willow. I do not need to be the mighty oak.
How do I un-adrenaline myself? How do I remain soft around the knees as they say in yoga? Having this space here to tap, tap out my angst is wonderful. To move my fingers across the keyboard is restful and reassuring. I am encapsulated in the quiet and stillness of the Universe, letting go of everything except this moment.
I read Sheba the riot act this morning. Enough! I told her firmly. Two days of her constant restlessness and attachment to me was taking its toll. Life could not go on as is. Time to put in some boundaries. She was developing some bad behaviour from our coddling because of her anxiety attacks.
She could not tell us what the problem was but she was always a bit of a scarity cat right from puppyhood. She would not leave the kitchen area. The only way for me to get her out the yard for a walk was to take her in the car and drive to the neighbourhood park. We got an igloo dog house for Christmas the first year. She was scared of it and I had to go in with her. That is, I had to lay down and stick my head in. What I wouldn’t do for Sheba. She outgrew all these, but now….
I am getting weary – and frustrated. Seems like every time she make some progress, she gets another episode. I have witnessed some of her attacks and there doesn’t seem to be any triggers. She would be playing, eating or not do anything particular when she would stop, yelp and come running to me, shaking. She has always settled down after it all passed and rest. Lately, she’s been restless and watchful all the time. We have to stay with her while she eats. And she needs company to go out to potty.
We had been at the vet not too long ago and I had mentioned her anxiety attacks. She passed her physical and bloodwork. I’m calling forth patience and calmness to get both of us through this. I wonder if HE is testing me. How serious am I with my meditation and yoga practice?
It’s a piece of cake to practice when things are hunky dory. It’s quite another when they aren’t. The aren’ts crowd and overtake my mind. I breathe and find my way back, reminding myself that it is precisely for these times that I am practicing for. I am still on track. God has a way of keeping his eyes on me.
This morning I would have abandoned my new way of eating. I would have say “Give me 2 eggs and 2 pieces of toast. I wanted to fill that hole created by stress and it would be a start towards that slippery slope. But we only had 2 eggs in the fridge – one for me and one for my Significant Other. Saved by what is!
Sheba and I are soldiering on. She is resting after a morning walk. The streets are better but still is treacherously slippery. I am happy that I haven’t fallen as some poor woman did, walking her dogs. I have done some research on dogs and anxiety and trying out some remedies. I will be patient and calm and breathe through it all.
I used to hinge so many things upon the little word, IF. If I was taller, if I was smarter, if this, if that. Yes, if I wasn’t Chinese, I would be have bigger bosoms. I would be more desirable. I would have more men panting after me. I would be happier. And if only the cow could jump over the moon……What then?
We cannot realize our what ifs. This is how I console myself today in the midst of my anxieties and throat in my mouth moments. Just keep driving. Keep your attention on the road. Smile! You are on candid camera. Talk. Keep the conversation going. Move. Breathe. Live. One breath at a time. One moment at a time.
There. The day is almost done. You have risen from bed, stretched and bended and reached forward. You have jogged with Sheba around the neighbourhood. You have driven through traffic, met and breakfasted with friends. You have divided and repackaged the meat you bought yesterday for the freezer. And you have met with your podiatrist. Your feet thank you. It is a miracle. I have not been frozen in my fears and what ifs.
So maybe the cow can jump over the moon. I am on the other side of if now. I CAN.
We are 35 days into Lent. Winter is still with us. And the world is too much with me. And so here I sit, tapping out the anxieties that I feel.
I feel my heart racing. Is it the caffeine or is it all the bad news I’m seeing? I do not understand all these violence we have for each other. Somewhere in the world, a bomb kills 20 people. I see the blood on the ground. It is the same almost every night…broadcasts of more fighting, more killing. A woman is raped and killed by a gang of men. A woman is killed by her lover. We are all horrified but it goes on and on.
I turn off the television. But can I turn off the images and my feelings? And so I talk with my fingers, trying to soothe my heart and soul with the written word. I make no noise in the night. All is quiet except for the rhythm of my keyboard. My heart is slowing down. I am catching my breath. I am doing my best. I am not fighting my feelings but letting them flow out with my breath. Tomorrow is another day.