Week 16 slid by without a post. (almost. insert cheeky wink here.)
And no one noticed. I noticed. I carried it in the middle of my chest like a weight. I've noticed that that area in the middle of my chest is a hotbed of activity.
I've been worried that I didn't do anything. (tightness in chest and low availablilty of breathing)
I just sat down and realized that I did everything. (I hope for a magical unraveling, a relaxing and friendly sensation to emerge from my chest. But no. It stays tight.)
I am a worrier. I worry about everything whether I need to or not. My worry is not good for me. I do wish that I could relax a bit more. Things would be so much more fun if I could just chill out.
This absolutely connects back to last week's post about trying to find some peace in quiet. I've been chasing after a meditation practice. I just haven't found myself sitting down to do it.
I wonder what I'm trying to avoid, flitting around like a hummingbird, constantly checking and re-checking little things, hoping for something. I check the mailbox, the email, the facebook and then I get back on those ponies and do it again. And repeat. What am I looking for?
Refelecting back on the labor day week(end), I spent the majority of the time bartending. I recently lost a friday shift that I've been depending on. I'm feeling a little unnerved without it. So, I took a lot of shifts to make some extra bucks. This led to too many late nights which led to too many late mornings which leads to self-flagellation which leads to worry.
On the bright side, I promised myself that I would get into a space and start work on my one-woman show, "Plasticland: A Better Place." This is the thing I did. Urging myself into the space to work or to lay on the floor in abject horror of nothing happening or to make up dances or to find the importance of symbolic storms... That went well.
That went well.
I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
- TS Eliot from Four Quartets
My special thanks to the fine people of Brain Pickings for posting something to soothe a worrier's soul.