Well, evidently, it's emptied out and is in need of replenishment: My energy tank. I've been expecting this. Running on fumes.
My last drop of creative energy, at least for this morning, was spent placing anxiety on the back burner while offering Will a positively focused smile, before and after kissing him goodbye as he was leaving to take his fourth psa test, which will determine whether radiation is in order or, hopefully, we can breathe easy for a while. This year, spent flying back and forth between Mom's need of me coupled with the same proving true of Will, has culminated in my inability to release pent up grief, stored deep inside my mind. Though writing stories about my parents, who are, once again, reunited, has offered me a measure of peace, many months of coiled stress combined with an immeasurable sense of loss are manifesting a fogginess of mind, suggesting it may be best to offer my think tank a rest by not writing much more, today, than an expressive paragraph or two.
Recently, my son, David, had reason to hug me while rolling his eyes at what he sees as my addiction to hopeful idealism. After we'd taken comfort in our hug, my son shook his head and smiled while admitting that of all my traits, this strong sense of idealistic hopefulness is the one he loves best. In answer to David's perception of me, I swiped away at tears, smiled at my son and offered this response: It's true that I'd lived most of my life as a hopeful idealist; however, experience has altered that trait in this way: Experience has reshaped me into a positively focused, optimistic realist—and you can be sure that that change for the better has takes tons of work in that I'm forever questing toward insight in the still of the night, most especially during dark times, when the best side of me needs to give the rest of me a good talking to, because my spirit needs shoring up.
Later, this insight came to me: Resultant of engaging in nocturnal pep talks with myself, frustration releases in such a healthy manner that, upon falling back to sleep and then re-awakening, the rocks in my path seem to roll off my back. So rather than forcing my spirit to tote a heavy weight behind a brave smile, I walk forward on a path, paved with common sense, until a simple plan emerges from my mind, and suddenly, that which had seemed impossible proves absolutely doable.
Each time this peaceful sense of clarity is mine, I find that, lo and behold, the safe haven, awaiting discovery, has been in front of me, all the while, and with thoughts of possibility filling my mind, I go about my day wearing a spirited smile, reflecting self trust, as seen emanating, naturally, from the sparkle in my eyes.
And as I've just injected my mind with clarity into personal strengths in need of a rest, I'm about to hang a gone fishing sign on my brain while offering whomsoever I may meet throughout the day a warm spirited smile, floating on a white cloud of serenity, starting right now :)
Hopefully, my spirit's pitcher will feel replenished, eager to lean toward pouring free flowing insight into story telling, tomorrow.
Your friend,
Annie
My last drop of creative energy, at least for this morning, was spent placing anxiety on the back burner while offering Will a positively focused smile, before and after kissing him goodbye as he was leaving to take his fourth psa test, which will determine whether radiation is in order or, hopefully, we can breathe easy for a while. This year, spent flying back and forth between Mom's need of me coupled with the same proving true of Will, has culminated in my inability to release pent up grief, stored deep inside my mind. Though writing stories about my parents, who are, once again, reunited, has offered me a measure of peace, many months of coiled stress combined with an immeasurable sense of loss are manifesting a fogginess of mind, suggesting it may be best to offer my think tank a rest by not writing much more, today, than an expressive paragraph or two.
Recently, my son, David, had reason to hug me while rolling his eyes at what he sees as my addiction to hopeful idealism. After we'd taken comfort in our hug, my son shook his head and smiled while admitting that of all my traits, this strong sense of idealistic hopefulness is the one he loves best. In answer to David's perception of me, I swiped away at tears, smiled at my son and offered this response: It's true that I'd lived most of my life as a hopeful idealist; however, experience has altered that trait in this way: Experience has reshaped me into a positively focused, optimistic realist—and you can be sure that that change for the better has takes tons of work in that I'm forever questing toward insight in the still of the night, most especially during dark times, when the best side of me needs to give the rest of me a good talking to, because my spirit needs shoring up.
Later, this insight came to me: Resultant of engaging in nocturnal pep talks with myself, frustration releases in such a healthy manner that, upon falling back to sleep and then re-awakening, the rocks in my path seem to roll off my back. So rather than forcing my spirit to tote a heavy weight behind a brave smile, I walk forward on a path, paved with common sense, until a simple plan emerges from my mind, and suddenly, that which had seemed impossible proves absolutely doable.
Each time this peaceful sense of clarity is mine, I find that, lo and behold, the safe haven, awaiting discovery, has been in front of me, all the while, and with thoughts of possibility filling my mind, I go about my day wearing a spirited smile, reflecting self trust, as seen emanating, naturally, from the sparkle in my eyes.
And as I've just injected my mind with clarity into personal strengths in need of a rest, I'm about to hang a gone fishing sign on my brain while offering whomsoever I may meet throughout the day a warm spirited smile, floating on a white cloud of serenity, starting right now :)
Hopefully, my spirit's pitcher will feel replenished, eager to lean toward pouring free flowing insight into story telling, tomorrow.
Your friend,
Annie
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