Today I’m still trying to ease my unease. The thing that works for me is to put it onto the page. I like to flex my fingers and let them tap on the keyboard. It’s like inhaling and exhaling. The brain is a wondrous and funny thing. Sometimes tiny bits of information creeps in and fear is instilled. It swirls around and manifests in annoying and debilitating ways. All of a sudden I find myself breathless. There is no air. I can’t expand my lungs. I have to reach back to a memory of another such occurrence. My brain and mind were in cahoots, playing a trick on me. I sit up tall, straighten my shoulders and breathe. I can!
This is what I have to do. Sometimes I have to play detective to find the source. I dismantle and cross out each possible cause. Eliminating stressors and things I am procrasinating about eases the tension in my body. I am doing something and not holding on to my unease. I give a sigh of relief with each one that I do. It builds confidence. There’s no need to be frozen with my anxiety and fears.
So now it is evening. I am sitting here with my lemon grass tea, inhaling and exhaling and expelling the stress of the afternoon. I had driven in the rain, in rush hour traffic at the worse time of the day. I survived the duties of the day. I can cross a few more items on my fear list. I can unfurrow and relax the lines across my forehead. I take a tylenol extra strength. Now I just have to bring in my bedding plants from the deck. It’s going down to 2 degrees tonight.
I feel anxiety and the blues nipping at my heels. What did I expect anyways? I listened to too many podcasts this morning. I should have just listened to the silence while making bread instead. I could have listened to the dough rising. Instead I listened to Oprah interviewing Tara Westover about her book, Educated. It’s an inspiring story but it’s difficult to listen to the stories of her dysfunctional family. It’s a book I will still read.
After that, it was the episode about the UN biodiversity report of how many species of living plants and animals are disappearing around the world. It’s damn depressing and scary stuff on top of climate change.
“Extinction looms over one million species of plants and animals worldwide, scientists said.”
It’s news I rather not know. But how can we not, even though some proclaim that there’s no such thing as climate change and dispute the facts presented by scientists? These days we are living with unease just barely beneath the skin. I feel it humming through my body and psyche. I could not listen to the next podcast that came up –As permafrost thaws in Canada’s Arctic. I had to shut it off. I am a chicken shit. Now I’m sitting here, trying to tap out my residues of fear and the blues. I no longer try to run away from them. Running makes them come after me. But perhaps I can do a walk away. It’s that time of day for Sheba’s walk. A little sunshine and fresh air are good for the soul but not so for the bogeymen.
The rain is done, but the clouds and wind are still making their presence felt. I’m edgy with unease. Sheba is bugging the hell out of me with her demand to play. She’s a barker and quite vocal about her needs. Grrrr! Good thing someone has taken her outside.
I dispelled some of my distress this morning on my perennial beds. I dug, weeded, thinned and mulched. I still have a long way to go. But now, they at least have a definite shape and not just a jungle of greens.
The rains had made the ground soft and easier to work with. I guess God is looking after me in his infinitely wise ways. He smiled just now, beaming sunshine as I’m tapping away here.
The wind is still here. I like to think that it is God, breathing, sighing and whispering as he looks over his creation. I hope he is pleased with what I have accomplished. My raised beds are doing remarkably well for their first year. The kohlrabi and peas have grown with the rain. The onions, radishes, lettuce and kale are thriving. Then there are my tomatoes and peppers.
The main garden is coming along, too. Now we need some steady sun and serious heat for everything to come to their full potential.