I have returned to the keys with the hopeful experience that it will feel again as it did yesterday. But tonight I return with less sleep – my own fault for pushing my bedtime past what I should have (baby slept through the night, so the fault is all my own).
The magic of yesterday continued into the evening. Our afternoon was as beautiful as our morning, the symphony of splendor rippled through all. Today, the mood is far more subdued but not in a fatigued or fed-up way, just a softer way. The softness of Sundays, the day of rest (though rest is not really planned as my inspiration from yesterday – to begin on the bedroom – has continued into today). And, as such, this morning at my keyboard also feels different. That’s fine, I accept this – as I accept all aspects of life – without resistance or impatience. I will just proceed with my shower and appreciate the stillness for the moment. It’s enough, it’s fine as it is.
I have returned, post-shower, needing a moment to destress. A sound – my least favourite in the world – is heard. A secret, you need not know the sound. But, I can tell you that the unhappiness it brings me is immense. It sits, blocked in my solar plexus, rising into my throat with disgust. The sound is worse than nails on a chalkboard, the source of the sound worse than the depths of purgatory. There is one sound that can ruin any moment and it is this sound. The sound infiltrating my home, my safe space, bringing me unhappiness beyond measure. The sound that can truly turn my day. I wish I could protect my home from this sound, my child from this sound, my life from this sound.
But I cannot escape it, not truly. So, rather than returning below to the living area, I am back in the office and I write. It is my attempt to meditate out of this space the sound has pushed me into and return to my Zen state. It is my attempt to recover, my hope that the keys will save me from the sound – and where the sound has sent me. And one might ask why I give power to a sound, let it dominate my emotions, my spiritual state, and I can tell you that I have tried all in my power – including past life regression therapy – but the sound still manages to set me off. The sound still wins. And it makes me hate the sound even more.
In an attempt to re-Align and reset, I burned some quick incense, cleansed my aura with sound (Tibetan bells, singing bowl, and kiambe), and I pulled a card from the Doreen Virtue Love&Light deck – WALK AWAY FROM ILLUSIONS AND TOWARD TRUTH – Show me the right path, O Lord; point out the road for me to follow. Psalm 25:4. A welcome reminder… The sound, a walking illusion, a distraction from the path, the unit, the safety and security. An attempt to throw me off Ascension.
I am not sure why the bedroom project is giving me such anxiety. Normally, I am a very impulsive person and when I am excited about a project – as I was/am with this one – I jump into it and go – go – go. But, having promised myself to choose carefully and to take it slow, nothing is resonating for me. I can’t find the “right” (I won’t say perfect) bookshelf. I can’t find the “right” side tables. Something is not resonating and I am not sure what it is. I have seen a few bookshelves and thought, it’s fine but there’s something missing. Something is missing and I cannot quite put my finger on it.
We went out this morning and I looked at furniture (at one of the only stores open on a Sunday). A few pieces had me uplifted, but then when my husband asked if “that was it” the feeling diminished and I said no and asked to leave. The joy faded and I wanted to go home. Something is not sitting. I don’t really have a vision for the space but I have a feeling. I know what I don’t like and what would make me love it more, yet I haven’t nailed the vision (despite being glued to Pinterest to try and formulate one). I don’t like the space as it is and I know key components that make me hate it and key features that would make me love it, but I cannot seem to bring it to life — all within the budget I’ve set in my head.
It is frustrating me, terribly. It makes me feel rather incompetent and silly, honestly.
Books from my birthday continue to trickle in. It’s slivers of joy appearing in my mailbox, the same thrill I felt when I selected them for myself. I finished one book yesterday: An Intentional Life. It is not a book written for me and where I am in my life, right now. It is not what I anticipated it might be when I was looking for books centered on slow living. It really aligns with my own book, The Transformational Path, and feel it is a great sister-book with more workbook like elements. It requires some thorough editing and proofreading, but was a really casual, calming read otherwise. It just wasn’t a book meant for me, so it’s difficult to rate a book that isn’t written for me.
I really would like to get a little reading done before baby wakes from his nap. In addition, I want to meal plan for the week ahead (write out my intentions for every dinner – ingredients have all been purchased earlier today), organize the groceries that were purchased, do a load of laundry, and maybe browse a few websites for potential bookshelves. I anticipate I will get 2 of those items done, and one certainly won’t be reading.
This is a reminder to myself to take it easy.
xx C
Awakened Little Souls 