If it snows one more time this week I'm gonna scream. And yet snowflakes under a microscope are so pretty. In St. Louis: just slush and black ice. So my black mood continues. Whatever. Yesterday I felt as if I were literally burning at the stake. Hot air in my throat. Feeling like I'm gagging on dirt clods. Bound Lotus did NOT bring up good memories. This stuff is old. Old, I tell you. And every day here at the Circle P Dude Ranch is the same. Pretty much. Funny I'll finish this 'Moon Kriya' for processing White Tantric Yoga on, none other than Groundhog's Day. My mother's birthday. The day we watch the damn groundhog squint his little eyes in the sun hopefully. I feel like Bill Murray. Where's my toaster? Hah. Cynicism is at least a sign of life. Screw this trying to "coax" myself into a good mood. I feel like shit, and have since Monday. Every damn day is the same, and Bound Lotus sucks. I hate it. Blah, blah, blah...
I miss everyone in Florida. St. Louis blows. Not that I want to go to Florida, with all it's covert racism, but, you know, maybe, um, California, where I belong. I feel like a duck out of water here. I don't want to stay here. I don't want to date anyone who lives here. I want to leave. I hate the winters here too. I look at the clock and I wake up and start coughing AGAIN! If it weren't so wet and cold I could go outside. I just want to sit under my favorite ginko tree. I hate this weather. I'm not a happy camper. Not at all. And if people don't like it, well this is how I feel. This is my blog. This is how I feel right now. I'm still doing the work. Still chanting, still doing Bound and the Moon Kriya. We'll see.
Yesterday was 57 days of Bound Lotus. As many years as my mother lived. I plan to live beyond that, if I can get through this crap. It's like cleaning a huge cobweb and dust covered mansion. "May the flowers of devotion bloom in the gardens of my heart." But the 'Secret Garden' feels dead and old. Where's my little bird to take me over the wall?
Some people just don't get it. There is a lot to be said for attitude, but sometimes you are just sick because you did TOO much, and got exposed to too much rain, cold and snow. But everyone who is a control freak likes to believe that they can change everything with a snap of their fingers. As this crud got a hold of me, I've absolutely loved hearing from certain individuals how THEY aren't going to let it get to them, and THEY will stay well. Arrogant. I've also been told - by people who only text messaged me and e-mailed me, and never heard my voice or how PHYSICALLY sick I was - how my problems would magically all be solved if I just stepped outside of my little cave into the cold air and had lunch dates and talked to people. Yeah! When you sound like you have tuberculosis and have to spit wads of white goo every couple of minutes people will just be banging down your door to have you in their restaurant or kitchen. But you know, if you really knew me you'd know this, cause you'd have picked up the phone and CALLED me.
I've been sick. So crucify me. It must be all my fault for not reading Louise L. Hays damn book before this crud took hold.
Just people who can't be present for someone else's pain and grief that needs to be released. When you can go and visit someone who is letting go of grief decades old and be with them instead of texting them, my God, let alone lecturing them about how "they just need to get out"...THEN you might have the authority later, if they are well physically but have been mucking around in grief for too long, to tell them to get up off their duffs. Until then, until you can spend time holding the gaze of someone in tremendous mental pain - GFY.
That having been said, it's funny how my voice no longer sounds like Lauren Bacall, and the coughing is not quite as severe...enough, not to go outside, but to go downstairs and say "hi" to the people in the office and ask about their step-fathers who have passed away to cancer, and their new boyfriends, and then....share some chocolate and a smile. Albeit, with some distance because the coughing is still there. Maybe what I needed was not a lunch date, but to tell someone off for being an asshole.
Amazingly, it seems, I feel so much better. Know-it-alls. I used to be one. I thought my mother was a failure for getting cancer, and not maintaning a positive attitude. I wanted to believe in all that Louise L. Hays crap ( not to say that in lots of cases it isn't true what she says...what she says does seem to have a lot of merit - just not in every case), and crucify my mother for not getting well. But you know what? She healed her soul before she died. She healed her soul. And that is what I am doing. It hurts, it's painful, but I think I can get through.
One last note: I wasn't looking for advice. I was looking for compassion. A warm hug from someone up close and personal. If you believe all that New Age stuff to a fault, put your money where your mouth is, and hug me while I cough like I'm gonna die of tuberculosis tomorrow. Don't text message me, hug me. Hold my hand, look in my eyes and smile. BE the human contact you say I need. And that goes for everybody who has ever said to me when I've been sick this and "wanting", calling, asking for company to watch a movie or share lunch; the way they've said: "Call me when you feel better." NO! Get your selfish ass over here with some chicken soup today...or are you afraid you'll catch it, and you don't really practice what you preach?
One final note: anyone who doesn't like reading this particular post in all it's raw pain and honesty...doesn't have to read it. Suit yourself. Have a nice day. Love and light. I can tell myself tomorrow will be better...
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