The dishes are done. The rhubarb crisp is in the oven and the pork roast is marinading. I’ve come to this space to tap out my angst and settle into good place. It might not be what Nick Ortner would call The Tapping Solution but it works well for me. I am finding the pressure points with my fingertips.

I’m having a little trouble settling in. The dog is barking. Someone is walking a dog by the window. A litany of barking and me yelling ensues. Okay. Everyone is quiet now. I sip my tea, frown, and tap. Not every tap is successful. That’s how it is but I’m sitting HERE. I’m setting priorities, dealing with issues, charting my progress.

I would like to think that I have made progress. Last night I came across THE WRITE MOOD – a journal for all your feelings, frenzies, rants and celebrations. It had different coloured pages – orange for rage, purple for passion, blue for blues, green for joyous jottings. I think I just wrote on page 1 and carried on. Glancing through, I sounded blue, and badly blue most of the time. As far back as 2007 but probably eons before that, I was writing about my messy, clutterbug self. I’m still at it though I don’t whine about the blues. Mostly they went away on their own feet. Feelings are not real, though they sure feel like it. They are not who I am.

 

The rhubarb crisp is done. I get up and the dog follows. Pitter patter. It’s like having a magnet attached to me.The crisp smells delicious. Looks good,too. Have to wait for the taste test. It doesn’t seem the worse leaving it half put together in the fridge and baking the next day. A consideration and note made of dividing labour into stages for other things in the future.

It’s a good day. I think I have my priorities. I got up, dressed up and went to my exercise class. I’m doing the things I set out to do. Well – my list is a mental one in my head. My reward system for showing up is putting a sticky strip (=$1) into my glass cannister each time I show up here. It was full of old alchol swabs that came home in my uniform pockets from work. I’ve finally dumped them. They were all dried out. I move at a snail’s pace but I AM moving. Hallelujah!