I get frustrated. Sometimes, life is a struggle to maintain, and I fight with myself and make lists of the things to do and try to force myself back to flow, and then BOOM there’s a breakthrough and I am on a high of just KNOWING that this is right and I am on the right track and all is going as it is supposed to.
Then something happens. Sometimes it’s big like my computer going out. Sometimes it’s small like not being able to afford a new swimsuit or something, it could be anything.
When that something happens, when that moment turns, all of a sudden, it’s like there’s a stone jamming the wheel of forward motion. Argghg.
The energies roil up inside of me and anxiety spills out. I yell at my kids. I can’t make myself sit down to write. I forget to eat. I fuss and fidget over doing something and so end up doing nothing at all. I need a time out, but there is no one to spell me for that time out, and even if I do get one, I am at a loss as to what will bring me back to center.
But maybe I am wrong in thinking that there is something that will bring me back. There is no post over on Cheerio Road that will answer my problem. There is no calm by osmosis from Soule Mama. There is no miracle of transcendence from Sesame Street playing on the tv while my kids play. Maybe I am not supposed to find a way to snap out of my funk.
Maybe it just comes back to what it always comes back to for me. Remembering to breathe. (Seriously, Ro, breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.) Writing out my head. Taking the steps I need to be productive and get me where I need to go. Telling myself to knock it off and stop feeling sorry for myself. Moving forward, being kind to myself, remembering that this life, the only one I have, is exactly what it is and exactly what it needs to be. And so am I, funk and all. So just breathe.