If you can’t join one, join another! Being booted from anything I want scurries through my brain like the memory of those three magic mushrooms trips that landed me in live nightmares. I feel pissed off I’m not receiving the drug delivery I ordered, duped by the happy hallucination stories my friends have kept insisting are the output of the nasty ingestion, and insanely mystified that my adventurous self is being left out of a good time period. Why me?! What did I ever do so wrong to deserve a tango with my demons, while surrounded by everyone else giddy as a child set free in a bouncy-house hopped up on birthday cake icing? Upheavals in life can creep in or hammer us a ripsnorter so far from the jewels of a jolly day that we’re choking on the very air we used to forget we were easily breathing. Our uncaged swing is the reverse engineering. Smacking your lack an about-face is the real race.
… you’ve been flying and living long enough to know that while turbulence feels scary, it won’t take the plane down. Turbulence isn’t deadly… We survive these things. … keep serving the freaking peanuts. ~Glennon Doyle, Untamed
I’m as sideways as up as down as diagonal as fine as repulsive and doing LOTS of gratitude prayers lately. I’ve been gloomy to have a view of the ocean the last few medical weeks cooped up indoors, but forbidden to get back into her liquid floating relaxation routine. Whereas, I’ve counted all my grateful California stars for their unemployment program honoring self-employed workers amidst the COVID chaos. Also, I remain indebted to the toilet paper Gods for finally managing a few months ago how to keep those special square tissue rolls on our store shelves so that I’m not resorting to the wilds of nature (which I’ve done in remote places such as Fiji, Ethiopia, while camping or when pulling over during long-haul cross-country drives as I’ve failed to time the bathroom stops and I’ve run out of any type of paper I’ve scrounged for inside my car frantically). We just don’t have to withstand as much suffering as we ordinarily imbibe.
Giving up remorseful baggage that we’ve so intimately endorsed sounds outwardly easy. I mean, who in their right mind wishes a breakneck to lengthy flagellation? Trying to pull as many inches of patience and positivity out of our bums as possible can be an entertaining unpinning if you let it. My recent melanoma sentence collided cunningly with a peak of my browsing brilliant foam tales on solo excursions still learning to surf. The incident stabbed my stoke right in the heart. Same as a lover completely shutting you out for another (whoops, that happened alongside for me too, alas). Therefore, I needed to reorganize my processing of the penalties. Our releases from any attempt to conform where we’re unable, uninvited, or have been told it’s unhealthy to clearly being unsanitary for our bodies or psyche is actually connecting us to security. The notion is to stop punishing ourselves, as well as others in our wake.
Quit dangling your trembles all over the place. Troubles tend to short-circuit us. Instead, shape-shift those suckers into a swell space. Commotion is definitely offering us the reminder that we all have access to a range of motion. When surfing went asunder per doctors’ determined directions for me to steer clear of my sunlight sweetheart a few months, I eventually charted a new plan. After a gallon’s worth of emotional tears, I picked up a relationship with my television’s World Surfing League channel again. If I couldn’t practice pretending to be them for reals, in the least I could amp my awestruck criteria for further study. Moreover, I marked my calendar with the date I was permitted back in the big blue and booked a benign snorkel. A gentle swim with short dives didn’t require me to use my compromised left arm, especially with fins. My MacGyvered yoga pants with rash guard gave me the sleek seal-coverage imperative for my #fuckcancer crusade.
Oscillation is the moving groove for which to aim. I find it a veritable turn-on to fall into deep lust with my capacity for personal growth. The Academy of Rotating Our Resistance is a superlative institution of grace. Allowing heavy slack on our sacrificial stooge mentality is where we should wind our wits. Whether you choose a shimmy or a sashay, or any variation of a pretty prance of inspiration through all of your ways matters for unblocking your disenchantment. ‘Options’ is one of my favorite words. It’s this simple concept featuring alternatives. This means electing to use that cognitive apparatus of yours for cycling through a literal endless formation of accommodations that may suit you in cases where change is necessary. My goofy bathing costume might be an unpleasing style choice, but vibrationally it profits my mermaid tendency. Tenacity plus innovation equals happiness.
May your uproars be more of a warrior’s soar.