Today my stomach is seismic. I feel like every output has a dozen inputs, every drop of energy that I’ve spent throughout the day has reverberated back into my body. I feel like each lobe of my brain is its own, separate racquetball court with men in short white shorts slapping away at my bouncing thoughts with their tiny racquets.
It’s midnight again, and I’m trying to pin myself down to write for a few moments. I’m unwinding all the tight cords of the week in hopes that I might be able to rest for a day.
It’s been an intense week. Along with the mental and emotional struggles, I’ve talked big picture with my employer, been through the financial ringer, and just a couple hours ago found out some worrying news about my rabbit Rory (he needs more tests and I am at a loss for what to do). Not to mention everything in the world that is beyond comprehension - the Vegas shooting, the political insanity, the natural disasters.
I’ve tried to seek the good stuff - the healthy dialogue, the constructive disagreements, and especially, ESPECIALLY the beautiful support and strength and resilience of good humans.
But I’m trying to unpack what to do after a week like this. I’ve truly never experienced these emotions, at least not concentrated and compounded like this.
I felt it driving home today when I spent the whole commute fearing every honk and feeling my stomach churn with each sound my car made. I felt it in yoga class when I went to drop into my warrior poses. The intensity in my legs made my ears ring and my heart race. I spent the middle twenty minutes of class in child’s pose, sweating and trying to let the grip melt out of my fingers.
I felt it when I took a sip of my long awaited Friday night beer. My stomach started rolling and rumbling and it took me a moment curled up on the couch to decide I wasn’t feverish. My ears are aching and my eyes are drooping.
Here’s what I want to do this weekend to maybe recover from this intensity:
I’ll drink plenty of water and take restorative yoga classes when I can. I’ll get outside and walk a little bit, maybe in the morning when it’s quieter, and get some of that fresh air that I’ve heard so much about.
I’ll read the books that I got from the library, the ones that make me feel smart and poetic.
Because I am the person that I am, I’ll work a few hours here and there so that I can start next week on a good foot. Plus, my personal finances is one of the few things in the world that I can directly and immediately impact for the better. Note to self: I cannot control them, only influence.
And I’m going to go to bed. Right now. I’m not writing the full hour tonight, but there will be time tomorrow or the next day or the next.
If you’ve had an intense week as well, please know that you are not alone. I am sending you a thousand hugs and one solid pat on the back. If you are working on being a good person, you are doing just fine. If you're working on being a better person, you're a hero. Light a candle, paint your nails, and chug water from your best wine glasses.
Lower your own frequency so that you can help others lower theirs. The more peace we can find in ourselves, the more peace we can extend outwards to the world around us.