As anybody who knows me or has talked to me in the last week or has done even a minimally good job at following this blog, ya’ll know the past week or two has been beyond the bounds of stress. I may have snapped at a few people, been less than my cheerful self, become irritated by small things you asked me to do, seemed overwhelmed at a task that wasn’t that big, not returned your calls, or avoided you all together.
Right here, right now: I intend to fix that. Like the picture above says, “cry it out and then refocus on where you are headed.” Well, I think, after tonight, I’ll be done crying it out, at least for a little while. I could say for a week or a day or a month, but we all know what Father Time can do and how Mother Earth likes to smack us upside the head sometimes, maybe when we’re getting a little too proud or confident.
It’s easy to generalize a bad day into a bad year, for sure. Especially at the start of the year, when not much time has passed. It has not been a great year for DSB’s health. There was the abcess from the kidney removal, the subsequent surgery to remove the abcess, and then, to add insult to injury, a wound vac that must be changed three times a week by a registered nurse. And now a (going on 5-day) stint in the hospital with pneumonia. DSB’s 2014 has been unpleasant, medically speaking.
While it’s safe to say that DSB has not had a stellar start to 2014, I can’t take that on as my own. To generalize that to myself, to say that dearest Rosa has not had a stellar start to 2014, would be a lie that only I would tell myself. That I have sometimes told myself time and time again, when things between DSB and I were not going well. Because when someone is sick and someone is tending, tensions grow. When someone is sick, the other person worries and stress rises. But Rosa has not had a bad start to 2014. Some amazing things have happened, and I think I have chronicled some of them in my TToT posts.
To, me, I can feel like the woman in that picture above. I can sense the wonder at the rising or setting sun, the yellowed grasses around me, the sky, the very being of myself. Some truly wondrous things have happened to me so far this year. I have:
1) Formed and continued solid friendships with my bloggie friends.
2) Solidified my love for DSB, by choosing right over wrong, trust over lies, consideration for the other over self-indulgence.
3) Forged deeper connections with my inner voice. I can let that voice out now, and have it be heard, and not worry (too much), about what effect that voice is going to have on a person that chooses willingly to read what I have written.
4) Given up trying to hide myself from the one who has always hunted me.
5) Learned to forgive, not to forget. Learned to trade in anxiety and lonesomeness and uncertainty in a fatherly relationship for compassion for what that person must be going through at this time. We are all human, even dads.
6) Learned to separate myself from that which is negative in my life. I choose not to have negativity in my life, and won’t tolerate it. Even if this means giving up people that I thought I cared about.
7) Started to open myself up to the possibility of rejection. Making jokes, telling fish stories, and selling bait isn’t as easy as you might think. There is a world of nuance within those walls.
8) Decided to stop counting my breaths as I am trying to fall asleep, and instead to just.breathe. In, out. Don’t say it, don’t think it, just do it. Appreciate the feel of the air through your nose, through your mouth, the rise and fall of your chest, the tickle in your throat. Don’t put a word on it, just be, just do.
To celebrate, let’s take a listen to my second most favorite meditation practice, singing bowls. And let’s be honest, Goddess of Mindfulness, my first pick is always the metal, but nowhere else can I get those bowls. They are addictive and the stories you told me on Wednesday left happy traces of puppies and friends and love on my heart. Bless you.
Please note that these are quartz singing bowls and they have a very special place in my heart. If you can (after you get through the commercial-ish first section), do take a listen. Take off your shoes, set your feet on the floor, sit upright, and breathe. You can do this. You really can.