Thursday, June 23, 2011

I never promised you a rose garden.

I have no new flower pictures for you today. This will trash me in the all-important Nature Blog Network ratings, but there it is: Life, being life.
It rained all day yesterday, and most of today as well. Yesterday, my angel (by which I mean Kevin, of course) and I took a garage-worth of construction debris (the bathroom renovation project) to the dump, and some furniture over to the Please Buy This House House, as we’ll be crashing there one night a week for the foreseeable future.
This is what the garage used to look like. I haven’t taken the “after” picture yet, or even the “during” picture – wouldn’t that have been great? “My Day At The Dump”?
Yeah, so speaking of the dump, I have to confess: I have been down in the dumps for a few days running. Lonely, bitchy, crabby, needy, lather, rinse, repeat. The other night, a friend of mine sent me one of those emails you’re supposed to pass along – a good-vibe inducing thing. I was feeling so ornery that I almost didn’t touch it. But because the values it espouses are so similar to the basic values of Reiki, I passed it along.
May today there be peace within. May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others. May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content with yourself just the way you are. Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of us.
One of the friends I sent it to responded the next night with very sad news: her 28 year old son had been killed instantly when a tree he was cutting fell on him. Two and a half weeks after my sister’s best friend took her own life.
I realized…oh. I’ve been in a foul mood because I’m grieving. Or rather, to be more accurate, because I’ve been resisting allowing myself to feel what I’m actually feeling. Which is, sad.
There. I said it. I’m sad.

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Sometimes our souls reach out. And sometimes they reach in.

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