Here’s the challenge I’m discovering about this blogging process – at least in my present circumstances. I am what might technically be called “homeless.” Although I have a roof over my head (thanks to the generosity of my aunt and uncle), I do not have a place I can actually call “mine.” My stay here is temporary and the room I am using is partially occupied by my aunt’s things. My uncle has a computer I can use when he is not in his office (and he enjoys doing things in there often), but I have no internet access on my own computer. Thus, I end up doing my posts at odd hours – most often while my aunt and uncle are enjoying their dinner after eight-something at night. (And I thought only people in books and movies ate that late!) Then, in part because of the neuron-activating nature of being on a computer and in part because of the mental activity of writing the blog, I end up getting to sleep much later than my norm, which makes getting up in the morning that much harder. (I prefer the 5:00-6:00 window for arising – preferably closer to 5:00 than 6:00.)
That said, I may end up writing my blogs on my computer – as I did with this one, then transferring them and/or writing them a day late. Of course, writing them a day late challenges my memory! 😉
Today, my day became about self-care. I began my morning with a most interesting event at work. I leaned on a shelf, apparently with too much weight. The shelf broke, I smashed my nose on a glass-sphere paper weight (I realized later) and hit my head on I-don’t-know-what. Fortunately, no one was around to see or hear the ridiculous chaos, including my shriek of pain as I clutched my nose.
After grabbing some paper towels to apply to my battered nose, I made my way downstairs to the bathroom to apply a cold compress (i.e., a wet paper towel) and to clean up a bit. (Thank goodness, my hands and the paper towels had kept my clothing safe!) I then went upstairs, cleaned the few small drips of blood from the carpet, and wondered when someone would arrive to be properly sympathetic to my ordeal. Naturally, it was a late day for everyone but me.
It actually wasn’t an ordeal at all, though it was startling and startlingly painful for a short bit. I took a few ibuprofen and approached the rest of my day with due caution. It was odd to discover how battered I felt.
To be quite honest, I’m not the least bit certain I tackled any fears this day. In a peculiar kind of way, the painful experience with my nose (which, fortunately, barely evidences the earlier trauma) freed me from feeling overly anxious about breaking the shelf. I’m still puzzling how exactly it all happened in the first place. I know I have leaned on that shelf before. Perhaps this was simply the straw on the camel’s back. (I don’t think I’ve gained upper body weight…)
Something interesting is happening though. I am noticing small ways in which my journey out of the fear is manifesting at work. I find myself tossing things into the recycle bin more easily, rather than hanging onto them “in case.” And today, after the morning’s excitement, I found myself willing to set a healthy boundary. I was concerned about getting certain parts of my work done today, especially after having missed all of last week while I moved out of my apartment. Yet I knew I needed to go home earlier, rather than later. So, I did all of one type of correspondence (the more urgent kind) and organized the remaining correspondence to be done next week. The truth is, there is no end to the tasks at work – too little time to do too much work tends to work that way.
After heading the wrong way on the freeway when I finally headed “home,” I ended up buying some foods my body needed and giving myself permission to treat myself gently for the rest of the evening. That has included a long phone conversation with a friend, watching a movie that makes me both laugh and cry, writing these blogs, and letting go the obligation to “work” on this project. Is that a letting go of the fear of not performing the “obligatory” fear releasing activities? Could be…
Having the Courage to Change 