After a few weeks of being quite sick, I woke up today feeling energetic and alive.
The relief is sweet. The bird song is brighter and clearer outside the window, the little dog is looking hopefully at her lead, and at 5.30am I am up and finding my candle, my tattered old ‘meditating’ sign for the door and returning to sit once again in the space of love.
I had been so immersed in a head full of misery that pounded day and night, that I began to wonder how I would ever get back to wanting to do anything else other than go back to bed. Eventually I could make myself do some small things each day, but it was not out of the energy of a drawing forward, but a dragging of myself along…almost dragging myself along behind myself.
I was struggling to find any ‘common bush afire’ – and in the end I decided just to stop trying and let life be as it was. No thinking, no decisions, just living it.
I had been aware for some time that I was running close to empty, but hoped that I could outrun the crash until there was time to stop and rest. I have always believed in the mind-body-spirit connection, and this one was a massive lesson that I had to pay more attention to the art of SLOW.
The irony of the symbolism, for anyone who knows me, is that I had non-stop coughing spasms every time I tried to talk. Oh dear, sometimes the psyche can be rude and blunt!
Next week, George and I are going to spend a few days together in the luxury of a B&B outside of Clare. He has been unwell too. This week is the time of refilling and regaining, and next week will be …oops, no…next week will bring whatever abundant grace it will bring. Our hearts are ready!