Move Away from the Pumpkin
I have friends who are into the Secret and positive psychology and languaging things in a non-violent way and the Law of Attraction and paying attention to our energetic bodies and our meridians and the moon cycle and the influence of past lives and the power of this and that and being conscious and a low glycemic diet and omega 3’s and all this other stuff who advise me to focus on manifesting what I want, rather than avoiding what I don’t want.
But jeez, sometimes I’m just trying to not get hit by a car. Some days I just feel like I want to cry all the time and I don’t even know why. Like making eggs is a big achievement. I could make up a bunch of reasons why I feel that way on those days, there are always good external reasons, always something happening. Something lunar or logistical. Maybe Mike went away for work, or maybe he came home from being away. Maybe I didn’t sleep well, maybe I ate something, maybe I’m worried about work or money or taxes or death. And then there’s the reality that I don’t know why these days crop up, less than they used to, but still from time to time, and all I can do is hope the feeling will pass. It always does, and maybe faster if I don’t force it away or cling to it.
For example, right now, today, I am prickly. The switch has flipped from bubbly, buoyant, and grateful, to edgy, tired, and hurty-all-over. When I look in the mirror instead of feeling somewhat cute I feel like a hideous old hag. My lovely and beautiful husband is annoying and my car is intolerably stuffed with crap when just yesterday it was comfortingly well-provisioned. Last week I was hot to write, couldn’t wait, while today it’s feeling like more of a push, like I’m pretty sure there’s laundry or dishes or bill paying I have to do Right Now instead of finishing this post.
And I’d like to flip the switch back to that place of ease and comfort and joy and enthusiasm but it doesn’t work that way for me. And I’m skeptical, really skeptical of people who say it works that way for them or offer me goods and services that purport to do it. But I will keep going. I will tell myself it’s ok, just like I told Ax the other day in the supermarket, when he got scared and burst into tears at the Halloween pumpkin display. “It’s ok,” I said, and I hugged him. “It’s ok, just move away from the pumpkin.” Which we did, and after we shook off the tears and the trauma of the scary pumpkin we completed our shopping and went home for a delicious and comforting dinner of mac and cheese with peas.
For Lisa from Berkeley.