If it were winter I’d call it the winter blues, but at this point there are no fancy names for my state of boredom. A ten-day long lovely holiday, then some work, another long weekend away with useful meditations and practices, some more work. Plunging into the tube, appointments, classes, while I only feel like sleeping and reading the True Blood book. Finishing my first watercolour painting gave me some joy, but today I’m back to disinterested numbness. Nothing matters.
This is all because my life has been getting ahead of me, I think, and my heart is harbouring a dissatisfaction. Any relationship is work, work to keep it fresh, motivating, interesting, nourishing…and, it turns out that my relationship with myself needs some repair work done. I don’t know where I will take me; away from this sticky gray boredom, which is helpfully signalling me that if I don’t take action things might tumble down to sadness, maybe gloom.
Did some divination yesterday with Esther & Jerry Hicks’ cards. It told me I should focus on the most positive thought that occurs to me now, instead of mulling over how gray and bored I felt. With some effort to set thing in motion I have switched to delighting in the idea that it’s lunchtime soon, and I will again dip into the world of dangerously magnetic vampires, fairies, werewolves and shape shifters. Feeling better already.
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