| ...serrenity itself is only to be had by prayer, and by the forgiving of others, and of oneself. —The Beatitudes  |
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| ...we can only get what belongs to us at any time, and nobody can prevent our getting that... —The Beatitudes |
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| ...there is no virtue in martyrdom. —The Beatitudes |
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| Never was there enough of what we thought we wanted. |
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| ... our crippling handicap had been our lack of humility. |
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| So it is that we first see humility as a necessity. But this is the barest beginning. |
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| ...to be willing to work for humility as something to be desired for itself takes most of us a long, long time. |
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| For the wise have always known that no one can make much of his life unmtil self-searching becomes a regular habit, until he is able to admit and accept what he finds, and until he patiently and persistently tries to correct what is wrong." |
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| The word 'prayer' should be understood as including any form of communion or attempted communion with God, whether vocal, or purely mental. —The Beatitudes |
I was really hyper and wound up when I got into bed last night. It seemed like I had been that way all day, and was nothing I could control. I somehow missed two days of my meds and I wondered if I was going through withdrawal. If so, I need to pay closer attention to my morning. Maybe a to-do list wouldn't be a bad idea, especially since the fibro is worse in winter.
I also noticed that the meetings yesterday were strange, or was that just my perception? I happened to open my book to "...too much guilt and remorse might cause us to dramatize and exaggerate our shortcomings...
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Monday, December 27, 2004
What happened to last week? I spent one day in bed disabled by fibro. On Christmas Eve I came down with another cold. This morning I am trying to journal through a fog of ilness and medication. My reading helps to remind me that my symptoms are temporary and that I will one day rise from this bed and lead a productive life. I am trying to resist the gloomy spectres of depression, remorse and insecurity that lurk in the corners of my room. I must also fight staunchly to resist feeling sorry for myself. I realize that I am probably cranky and am better off getting through the day in solitary confinement. I have plenty of tools for passing the time and I must conserve the little energy I have. I know there are Brothers and Sisters and other friends and family around the city thinking of me, wondering how I'm doing, wishing me well. And I need to align my thoughts and Spirit so I can be the proud beneficiary of all that lovely energy.
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Tuesday, December 28, 2004
I am very tired this morning, having spent some time bringing order to my space here. The little spirit of energy says I am mending; its short duration says I have a way to go.
I yearn for open air and sunshine, a drive into the countryside. Winter weather came too early this year; I have cabin fever already. Perhaps we will be blessed by a few temperate days so we can surface, fill our lungs, and submerge again when the freeze returns.
I worry over the state of my marriage, but quickly turn it to God and the ministrations of active prayer. I am restless for lack of employment; foolish, because I would be miserable today trying to report for duty. All in all, I am having difficulty accepting my current state for the day, and intellectually I know this restlessness accompanies returning good health.
So I will brush my teeth, put on makeup, fix my hair, dress for the weather and go to the bank. Maybe have lunch out. By then I will certainly be weary and grateful to return to bed. Maybe I can even launder the sheets.
The thing I miss most today is feeling well physically. I suppose it is much too soon to expect a pristine immune system, and to stop working toward that now would mean a waste of previous effort. I should reflect that it is remarkable that I am partially recovered after only three days, with no apparent secondary infection. So, keep on keeping on, as they say.
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Wednesday, December 29, 2004
I am ready to be done with this year. I feel I have moved from the ridiculous to the sublime and back again. I have missed at least a week's meetings, and I am smarting for it. I have spent the last 24 hours or so in a veritable orgy of physical experience, and how I have managed to retain any semblance of spirituality is amazing. This connotes or implies all sorts of wicked behavior, but in fact, it is just the simplest things that derail us sometimes. Mostly I have spent too much time on the Internet, looking for clothes I don't really need but somehow want very much; researching stocks I know nothing about and can't afford to buy, getting frustrated because online trading requires minimums 10 times what I have, and so on. I guess a foray into the material world is not so terrible if it leads us to see the folly of our trivial desires, but sometimes we make mistakes along the way that are costly in terms of precious resources: time and money. Also the breeding of dissatisfaction and discontent is at least counterproductive. Now I have managed to make myself restless enough to be unhappy on multiple levels, from my haircut and wardrobe to my commitments. Truly an alcoholic lives here!
Temps are to rise into the 60s, most of last week's ice has melted. It is a classic winter day, everything is gray or brown. I am not well enough to be healthy nor ill enough to be sick. I want to paint a wall, clean my rooms, go on a picnic, but I know my energy will run out after about an hour of anything. Maybe I'll paint my nails.
This morning I read: "Never was there enough of what we thought we wanted." Subsequent text illuminates us regarding the process from self-reliance to humility. "... to be willing to work for humility as something to be desired for itself takes most of us a long, long time."
My dreams at night are vivid and filled with excitement, pleasure, happiness. I wake in the morning in this body of stagnating processes and wonder how I will best use my day. Emmet Fox tells us that contemplation is "the highest of all forms of prayer," so perhaps by just being aware of my thinking today and consciously directing that thought to God I can be of best use, at least to myself.
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Thursday, December 30, 2004
I have the sense of a great cornerstone being moved into place, a grinding and shifting of huge elements, the anticipation and expectation of the final click permeates me like a mist. The bolt is sliding through the chamber, about to lock. The airship has reached the end of its taxi, and watching the agent, creeps forward on huge wheels to its precise location for resting at the gate. I am waiting for the captain to signal the cabin that it is time to release the restraint and rise.
When I think about my husband today it is like thinking of a colleague with whom I'd rather not meet. I'm trying to see if there's anything there I'm avoiding that needs my attention. I think of the dog; he is boisterous and exuberant on greeting, but responds respectfully to "back up." My spouse responds with anger.
I am missing my home terribly. I spent some hours last night tumbling over and over in my mind the potential for returning and resuming life there. Without family and fellowship, though, it is just like any other city.
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