I am confused today. Yesterday I felt I was finally hitting my stride - being able to get my work done and also writing up a storm - but something felt hollow. Normally when I finally find my rhythm I feel joyous and energetic. But I am feeling tired and lacklustre which is puzzling. I have enjoyed delving into those foggy times in my past and discovering all kinds of forgotten gems there. Also yesterday I finally re-read my fantasy novel draft and found it quite exciting and I am now looking forward to working on the revision.
I should be happy.
Yet, today I woke not really looking forward to the day. Nevertheless I decided to plunge into exploring my memories. I am now writing about the time when things began to shift and some kind of coherence began to emerge in my life after about four or five years of turbulence. That was also the most directionless time in my life. I was lost and had no clue what my life purpose was. Instead of scrambling desperately to find my path, as I realise I am doing today, I had decided on a time of 'low doing'. Even though I was living with my family I decded to not speak too much and only eat one meal a day and spend a lot of my day in quiet contemplation. For about three months all I did was meditate, play music and read a bit.
As I wrote I connected back to the feeling that it was a time when I felt the divine most strongly in my life. Something bigger than me guided my apparently empty days that were actually so full. I don't know how but suddenly I found the next few months magically charted out for me. I watched shocked as everything I didn't even know I wanted manifested in my life. A lot of people, many of them strangers, told me then that I had a lot of personal power.
Writing about that time is confusing me as I am so far from it in my mental space right now. I have so much to do and I when I find I am running short of time the first thing that I sacrifice is my meditation and my quiet time. I don't know why I had forgotten that this is what really sustains me through everything. I don't know why I had begun to tell myself, 'first get work done and then meditate.' I don't know why some part of me had even begun to think that it is a waste of time.
Whew! glad I woke up. Sometimes something seeps in so slowly that you don't even know that the intuitive wise part of you is in a deep slumber. Sometimes you need to be reminded over and over again and in different ways to wake up.
This morning I wrote about a session I did with a therapist in Portland where I felt my fathers spirit with me. He said to me, 'Don't be afraid to waste your life.' Every time I remember these words I am surprised.
Don't be afraid to waste my life. I think I am going to contemplate this for the next hour or two and throw my schedule out of the window.
What do you think is a 'waste of life'? Is it really?
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