December 26, 2011
Light 11, ME Newsletter, Vol. 4, Issue 52
This year will be ending with a few less old and a few more new doubts. Those who thought as I did, that 2006 would be my hardest year ever, now know as I do, that was just the beginning. 2011 found me repeatedly running to and fro, away from and back to my reality, which may have been a harder route to take than staying comfortably put.
“You can’t go home” wasn’t enough of a detailed warning for me. So I came home, time after time, but it wasn’t the same, and it wasn’t how I wanted it to be and it hurt worse every time. But some of the results were so worth it: reconnecting with bright-sunshine supportive friends all over this country and abroad, acquiring new light-drivers through a silly facebook game, accepting a new position, developing a new set of skills, finding the more I re-positioned myself, ever-widening illuminations reveled more choices, more multi-lighted paths.
Bright lights are rarely kind, though. They draw attention to our flaws, slips into even our finest cracks; easily burning away the instable, highly flammable film we wrap ourselves too tightly in – nothing gets out, but nothing gets in, either. There can be no change if there is no flow.
Living in a vacuum falsely implies stability and control: eventually air runs out and then there is but one small decision left to make. Stop breathing where we are or release the void. Escape into oblivion or take a deep breath. Like a limb shifted after hours of inertia, there is pain in regaining function. There is pain in the commitment required. Every moment demands some sort of forward movement. Most days, I shuffle in baby steps. Some days I can do nothing more than think about putting one foot in front of the other, and some days even that becomes an effort. It’s those days that are the hardest.
I mostly forget to take pride in my accomplishments; sometimes, I list them on scrap paper, just to show myself I am still going. Take today for example; I barely moved but I also: went grocery shopping at 9:00 am, was home by 9:40, had chicken in the oven by 10:00. Took Tylenol for a headache and sore throat, played an online game until the chicken was done; forced down two cups of cranberry juice and took a nap. Washed the cooking pan, ate lunch, played with Miss Fred and Harley Blu. Personalized Christmas ornaments, read for a while, took more Tylenol and another nap. Ordered a pizza, took a bath, talked on the phone for a bit, hard boiled eggs, picked out an outfit for the office. Rested for a while, ate dinner, sat down to work on this week’s newsletter and decided that a decisive step away from my Ireland interlude was in order...
... to thank you for continuing on this journey with me. Just by being out there on the receiving end of a weekly email you’ve given me incentive and another year-long gift of responsibility. Reporting in, reflecting on, remembering, reigning in fears, shedding tears, I’m a long way from where I want to be. Going back isn’t an option, but with so many others lighting my way, moving forward is getting easier.
Blessings for a happy, healthy, safe, serene and stimulating new year.
Posted by jaselin at December 26, 2011 03:22 PM