There is a poison that seeps into the essence of mundane life when we’re not paying attention. And it festers silently like a flesh-eating bacteria both claiming and devouring its territory. The thing is, it’s beginning to feel like there’s nowhere to hide from the toxicity. And the poison is addictive. It taunts you, challenging you to dare to stay away. And even as you know you should, you can’t.
I’m beginning to feel the dizzying effects. The imbalance has altered my daily ritual of meditation with my inner goddess. My thoughts don’t settle long enough to allow the divine wisdom to surface. My energy is low, almost depleted, and I grasp for the answer which I know can save me. But it’s grabbing at fists full of air, and it stays beyond my reach. And I am here with my thoughts, trying to find the equilibrium thru my writing. Thus far, finding balance in a mad world eludes me.
I think I’ll take a nap. Step back from the stinking piles of constant chaos being stirred. And take a hiatus from social media and from the news.
But the truth is, I have sworn off the news long ago, and still it manages to find me. (I told you it seeps into the essence when we’re not paying attention. There truly is nowhere to hide.)
The nap is out because I am not a good day sleeper. And lately, I’m not much of a good night sleeper either.
I talk about options: Australia? Canada? Italy? France? And I am shortly, curtly really, told that the malady runs rampant now, and running has never been my style anyway, unless it was sprints at competitions when I was younger, or when escaping from relationships that exhibited the least bit of a throat hold when I was older than that…but that kind of running is patterned, and is not at all the same.
This urge is something completely new. There’s a rooster chested boogie man chasing and although his hands are small, his noose is wide. He has a corral of mostly pasty sheeple awaiting their chance to prove themselves as loyal. They expect kudos and attaboys for loyalty. What they don’t know is the contagion is spreading…
…and they too are not immune.
Even those who profess “neutrality” are not without fear. It’s beginning to show in their silence.
We’ve been here before, not you and me, but the world as generations can take merely a brief peek back in time to see history repeating. And the rise and fall of every country is a shelf life of 200 years. America is a petri dish. And we Americans are rotting, from the inside out. It starts at the head, they say. The sparsely tufted head of an aggressive banty cock in this case.
Today, I have made a decision to stop the madness, at least in my corner of sanity. We’ll see how it goes. My day will be spent in frequencies of higher beings. My focus will be set with iron will, to do the tasks and enjoyable activities that don’t cause my blood to boil or my heart to run that race, that sprint away from the monster we all once laughed at.
How can I coach from a place of love and light, how can I create the essence of women’s confidence content while I am in a drained state? I cannot. And so, the advice I could give a client would be to self-nurture, to rejuvenate. That’s the advice I’m taking from myself.
Today, there will be no media aside from this post. I won’t check my email accounts. I won’t tune into Facebook, or Google+, or to Instagram, or Twitter feeds, or LinkedIn, or to the cable television aside from maybe catching a movie later into the deep evening as I sip a dark red wine as the enticement to sleep.
Maybe there, I will regain my sense of self: Mind-Body-Spirit, aligned.
But then again, it is a full moon….
Carve out some quality nurturing time for yourself this weekend. Heal any imbalances you may be experiencing.