It has been a couple of weeks since I wrote a Thursday Truth piece for my blog. I’ve been stressed, and you probably all know that stress is the stuff of which Bloggers’ Block is made.
I did post last Thursday about my rampant anxiety.
After I wrote that post, my husband and I watched a couple episodes of Fringe on Netflix. We are obsessed with this show, and despite its dark and twisty themes, it is a nice way for us to sit and decompress after the day.
The show ended and I told him about the exchange between my acquaintances where the best they had to say about someone was, “she wasn’t really that much of an asshole.” I wondered aloud to my husband if that was the way that people talked about me behind my back.
“Well, if that is the way they talk about people, then that is their problem,” he stated, in his typical concise manner.
“Yeah, but I don’t understand why people have to be so judgey and mean,” I replied.
“You need to put that woman down,” he said.
“I was just telling Jack the story about the two monks who have a fight. A few hours later, one of the monks is still angry at the other monk. The other monk says, ‘Oh, you’re still carrying around that woman? I put her down an hour ago.'”
It seemed awfully simple. I went to bed and couldn’t sleep. I laid there chanting Om Shanti, and doing some Reiki on myself. My solar plexus and heart were particularly hot as I moved my hands over my torso. I still couldn’t sleep, so I got up.
My husband was folding a basket of laundry in the living room. Squinting in the sudden light, I asked if I could have a hug. He gave me one and then I went back to bed. I slept, although not that well. My weird, anxious funk persisted for another 36 hours, and then it stopped.
During those 36 hours, I chanted, forced myself to smile, and did my affirmations. I am a good person. I am a nice friend. I am loving and kind and thoughtful. I am smart and dedicated. I am worthy of respect and compassion.
Through my affirmations I was able to put that woman down. Carrying that burden was tiring and uncomfortable, but putting it down seemed a Herculean task.
It makes me wonder, why is it so hard to put the woman down? What makes us hold on to despair and difficulty and drama with such force?
Meh… I’m in a decent space right now, so I don’t want to think into it too deep. If you have any thoughts, feel free to comment on it!
I am feeling heaps lighter this week, and I hope you are all doing well too.
Happy Fourth of July, and Momaste ya’all!