Two weeks ago, the dreams were all about what I should’ve and shouldn’t’ve done.
The job I should’ve kept.
The money I shouldn’t have spent.
The house I should’ve insured differently.
The loan I shouldn’t have taken out.
The stocks I should’ve made into bonds.
The words I shouldn’t have said.
The toilet paper I should’ve bought.
Of course, I intellectually knew these were all fantasies, that I am powerless over the storm that is tossing the boat of my life off course. But still they were were, powered by the deeper fantasy that I am responsible for everything that happens to me.
But the brain and heart and the mind are not always sync’d. What one knows, the other ignores, and the other, well, it tries to just stay upright on the balance beam but sometimes it favors one or the other. Or is eclipsed by them both, overwhelmed by their screams to point out danger.
It’s better now. The boil of anxiety is beginning to subside. The morning waters are beginning to return to a placid smoothness so that I can see the sky in the surface again.
I feel I am walking more upright, with my head up. Cautious, maybe, but still, moving. Uncertain of the future, but looking around, seeing there are things to do that make a difference. And can be enjoyed.
How did this happen?
Talking with my wife.
Playing catch with the kids.
Meditation and zoom meetings with other people like me. Listening to their stories.
Paying attention to my oldest when he asks about girls.
Not worrying about whether people are wearing pants or not in the house after 9 am.
Throwing the ball for the dog.
Reminding myself that we are all breathing fine.
And spring is coming.
