openscarf

I like the look and feel of the fog today, it's cool outside and somewhat somber. The last several days were beautiful and sunny and I welcome the change. Such light filled days carry expectations that didn't mesh with me.

Waves ripple and undulate inside me, synapses are moving and reconnecting, a new place lives inside me that somehow reinforces the core of light  I "re-discovered" after the assault. All these are physically tangible to me, I feel them; old cells are being replaced, like normal I guess, but I don't usually feel them..

I don't feel like "myself", I'm eating less, my organs seem to be shifting around, yet I feel I'm becoming.

Yesterday was a day where I sank very low and felt a very quiet intense rage inside. A strange and horrible day; a day of frustration and loneliness and seemingly nothing coming in. I sat at the computer too long; I didn't meditate, I read, but fell asleep. I couldn't write. The sun made the day seem too happy and full, why wasn't I?  All the street noise and neighbor urban noise was torturing my every nerve.

I literally forced myself to do yoga at about 5 . Yoga, yoga, yoga. I always feel like rock star when I'm done.

I bought an airline ticket to go home for Thanksgiving, Monday through Friday. I have a couple things to write, I have my part-time job and hopefully more happening as this day goes on.

A livable paycheck makes you free in this world. My family is behind me and for the first time ever, I'm receiving more graciously. I believe that was another lesson from my sojourn to the desert. Nothing taken yet, but it's coming. Just a little.

I feel as if I'm hustling my ass off, but when the results are so tiny, I wonder why I can't find the path. Where the hell is the path?