Spring and the Moon of Liberation
Shabbat gratefuls: Joe, the voice of the godfather. Gabe, trying to figure out college. Mary and her 17 shelf library project in the Graduate House of the University of Melbourne. Mark at mid-terms in Al Hafar. Tom and Roxann, taking care of Jesse.
Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Family
Tarot: paused
One brief shining: Oh, man. No posts. Two days in a row. Never. Until now. My week + bout of constipation, finding my phone, getting through the final phases of trial preparation have wrung me out and hung me up to dry. I’ve also had an unusual stretch of poor sleep.
I would write a paragraph, then fall asleep. I wrote on on both days, but never finished more than you can see above. Frustrating. Maybe a little better sleep last night. We’ll find out if I can finish this
This has been tough. The constipation made everything harder physically. The lost phone bathed in Gen Z shame? Grandpop. How could you lose your phone. I walked along the hallway of a Dr’s office. A woman and a man coming my way asked if I could see them. No. That much pressure on my back made me even more tired. Stand up, drop your chin to your chest. Feel the muscles in your lower back. Yeah.
In regard to this problem. I’m trying to distinguish between prostate cancer in my bones and aches and pain related to my five bulging discs. Still unsure. I also get pain in my right lower back from a torn labrum. Steroid injection for that next Tuesday.
Life seems to keep lobbing grenades over my threshold. So far I pick them up, throw them back. I’ve Miralaxed my way past the constipation. Used Google to find my phone. However, I wake up around midnight, then sleep fitfully the rest of the night. No red alert. No sirens. Pain. Impaired communication. Sleep a fond memory.
I know from experience with Kate that these asides can be as damaging as a major disease. Why? Because they can reduce resilience.
Too, exhaustion like I’m still experiencing can leave the body more open to invaders. Colds. Flu. Covid. Work out? No thanks.
The frustrating thing is this. When I’ve gotten some spunk back, I go upstairs to cook. My head drops. My back ouches. I get right back in touch with my fragility. That’s dispiriting,
However. The well of my resilience has depth. Maybe not in the acute phase of a new challenge. Right after that though I begin to sort through a fresh problem list. See what I already know. Investigate my resources. Who might be available to take me RMCC on Wednesday. Or, to Panorama on Tuesday? What do I need to know about constipation?
A direct outgrowth of this turn? I’m evaluating how a house keeper might help me conserve my energy, focus on things that matter.
Aching. Tired.
Seeking.
Ah. Water from the well.