on losing one’s mind, and finding it again

This is how most of this week month has been:

Out of focus. Meaning, the things that are actually deeply important to me? Uhhhhhhhh….

What are they again? I can’t see straight.

Basically, I have spent the past month or so working too hard, and not getting enough bliss time in. Hard to believe, when it’s only a part-time job, which, I do from home. Hard to believe when I have pretty decent self-maintenance habits: I eat pretty well (hardly any crap), I run several times a week, I give myself Reiki every day, and I do at least three to five Reiki treatments on other people every week (not counting Kevin – he gets Reiki every day). I don’t know how much of this is background stress (some pretty major things are up in the air in our lives, plus some loved ones are experiencing health issues), and how much is the changing of the seasons (the onset of fall, as I’ve gotten older, gets harder and harder…), and how much is just not really taking my needs seriously.

All I know is, Tuesday there may have been an episode of brain paralysis, followed by a minor emotional meltdown. There might have been another meltdown yesterday morning, followed by extra bonus meltdown in the afternoon. Two in one day! Excellent! Last night, Kevin gently suggested to me that I – brace yourselves – take breaks more often, and go outside with the camera. Today, I finally did so.

I went from this:

 

To this:

Oh. Okay.

 

Yeah.

I remember this.

Exhale.

 

Bees go all in for what they want.

Bluets don’t give up. September? “Fie!” they say.

Sumacs say, “Hold my beer and watch this shit.”

 

Asters got the memo that fall colors involve orange and red, and responded with an “oh yeah?”

“Sez who?”

 

The tall anemone follows suit, indulging in a little light purple…

…before saying “screw it” and exploding.

 

 

Only one eyeball left on the white baneberry.

And now, for yellow.

Oleander aphids on a milkweed pod…

…and stem.

 

 

As for the tree that fell at the base of our driveway: it’s in the burn pile now. In the background, on the edge of the field, lurks the feral bathtub.