A Rolling Stone

I am returned from Moncton and feeling slightly out of sorts. I have no food. My apartment is a sty and everything I touch seems to fall apart and need repairs. I have a cupboard door lying on the floor in my kitchen. I have no energy. I went to bed last night around 7pm, forced myself out of the bed this morning just after 7:30. Maybe I should take some vitamins or something.

I need to go out sometime today. I need to sort out my finances first. It was an expensive weekend. Nothing like living beyond your means! Yes, I really could have gone to Europe instead! But it was good. I mean there was a lot of bad associated with this weekend for me personally, but overall it was good. I bought books. I mean REAL books, literature. And I’ve started reading them. And I touched base with that part of myself that writes stories, that wants to write stories, in a way that I haven’t in awhile. That part that sees the small actions and immediately files them away in her memorybank where they remain until the character needs them. This was therapeutic and necessary.

I’ve felt out of line with the universe this past week or so. Off course. When this happens I often get ill (and I did get ill) and it’s just a really negative unharmonious experience. This mightn’t make much sense to some people but I spent a great many years getting myself in tune with my life. I follow my gut. And my gut doesn’t steer me wrong. I pay attention to signs and I do what they tell me to do. It took a long time to get here, through so much muck it’s a wonder I ever emerged at the other side in one piece.

So most of the time I sail along pretty much at peace with myself and the world and feeling in harmony with the universe overall. And if something makes me feel icky I back off and don’t do it. And if the way seems to be barred to my passage I back off and look for the way with least resistance. And along the way I experience awakenings of the spirit that I would never have thought possible and I gather to me the most interesting, supportive and loving group of human beings to exist on this earth.

But just because I’m listening and I’m in tune, doesn’t mean everyone else is. Yeah, I can follow my path to the places I’m supposed to go, but sometimes the people on the path with me aren’t so cooperative or enlightened. They buck. They want to crash the fence and take the other road. It’s human. It’s free will. It’s beyond my control. And yet it causes me to crash too, road kill thrown into the ditch. So this past week has been unpleasant. And I mean physically. Emotionally and intellectually, I’ve been clawing my way back onto the path from the moment the crash happened, but the wobbly-ness of the universe seems to draw major negativity into my life and negativity makes me sick, physically. And the physical is hard to get past sometimes. It certainly takes longer to bring back into harmony.

I feel a shift today in my body though. It wants to go outside. It needs to walk by the water and listen to the birds and ground itself with nature, this place I call home. And I think it’ll be ok now. I think the physical is catching up with the emotional and intellectual, coming back onto the path again, tuning back in, regaining harmony. The worst is definitely over.

Mood: optimistic
Drinking: americano coffee, black
Listening To: crazy, aerosmith
Hair: still blonde

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