The Empty Well
It’s a helva week. And it’s only Tuesday.
I know I’m not alone out there. We never are. That’s the good news. Everyone has these kinds of experiences. The marvelous gift of our shared humanity. The ups and downs and all arounds.
I’m not sure what kind of dark magic the Blue Moon wrought this weekend, or if Mercury in retrograde is just heating up to it’s pinacle of mischief, or perhaps — this week — life just has some rather hard lessons to explain to me. Who knows? It is what it is.
My mind feels like a hundred million circuits that have been zapped by lightening and may never work again. My body is exhausted and aches in places I had forgotten I had. AND — my sister is coming to visit in three days. I have a house that needs some spit and polish, plus laundry and grocery shopping that should but probably won’t get done.
My well is dry. I went to yoga tonight and realized I needed more of this for my poor aching body. And some good green tea with honey. And to write this out for my soul. Then some meditation to try to do something about those fried circuits in my brain.
Tomorrow I’m off and I decided to make it all about me. Sleeping in. Yoga. Facial. Hair done. Lunch out. And weather permitting — I’ll do it all on my motorcycle for the zen of it.
Because self care isn’t an option. When Life turns to you and tells you that you have to dig deep today — you need to have something there to give. You have to care enough about yourself, consistently, to remember to put something back into your soul or you will be an empty well. Dry as a bone. Living in drought like conditions. No joy in your life.
Do something today just for you. It can be as simple as a cup of tea. As long as you remind yourself — I am important to me. My body, my mind, my soul — we are in this together. I will take care of all of us. We deserve to have joy and the things we enjoy in our world.
Fuck the housework. My sister loves me — she won’t care about any of that anyway.
Namaste.
