Monday, August 22, 2016

Awake August 2016 - Twenty-Second

What is going on Ellen? It is as though you disappeared for a few days. You were here, but not here. Is everything okay? 

Well, here is the thing. Too much.
Too much on my feeble old brain. Too many things banging around in my head. Worrying too much, trying to do too much. 

Just too much.

So I stepped back, just a tad, for just a bit. To recharge, regroup. 

And then I had a mini-epiphany today.

This morning at work, I was standing outside taking a quick smoke break, and looking up at the sky. Lady Luna was saying her "good days" as she hung there, translucent and beginning already to wane from her fullness just a few nights ago. I then looked out across the parking lot, towards Lebanon and Big A Mountain in the distance. The heavy fog from earlier still hung low and dense, while higher in the sky the clear blue was breaking through. 

And I decided I need to find a way to see inwardly more clearly, to get my fog burned off. 

This is what happened over the next few hours:

Most people who talk to me in person on a regular basis will tell you I do not speak kindly of myself. I truly am my own worst critic.I say things like, "Roger is the best person I know, and he needs to be since he has to put up with me." 
and, "I need to be better at {fill in the blank} because I am just not nice enough."

Then, after I came home, I started seeing a theme, a pattern, to the things that caught my attention as I was scrolling through Facebook.

My recurring message, for a couple of months now, has been

I have a vision of Earth, healed ... be kind

I am just not sure I have been kind to me very much - ever.

And this, I realized, is a big contributor to the 'funk' I have found myself in. 

So I am going to try to choose to be happy.

To love myself.

To learn to be a light.

To be kind to me, to better be able to be kind to others.

Because if I want the Earth - my Earth - our Earth - to be healed -

I need to start with me. 


Clear sky
Translucent moon
As the sun banished
Morning fog

Prompt Response:

"When the truth sits over my right shoulder"

Outside my window sunlight glitters on diamonds strung on silver thread
as the last vestiges of overnight rain return to from whence they came. Sir Spider repairs his web.

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