Mini-Baby is supposed to go to school now. He's asleep on the sofa. Snug as a bug in a rug. It is gray outside with occasional spatters of rain. Droplets reaching earth, soaking into it and bringing some message from the heavens about grounding myself. The present is being nurtured. In ways that I can't yet see.
The poem that I wrote some days ago captured some of what I feel. A disconnectedness that runs deep. Nothing that I chose, but certainly something that hit me when I was busy living my life as a teen. So much has happened since those early years. My insides were in a constant twist, and every action an attempt to make it and keep it real. A true case of fake it till you make it.
The simplest things seem to help me these days though. Just noticing everything. Being solidly anchored in the present...as in...never leave a moment to drift away...never allow an errant thought unrelated to crop up. And mostly, a stern voice that I listen to...one that tells me never to allow thoughts that spiral into a vortex of hopelessness.
Being in the present seems to return a lot of energy. Much that I thought I didn't have. It was there all along for the taking. I just couldn't stay long enough to recharge.
Grounded as the trees that live for centuries...not that I want to. But that is where they get their strength from. The earth itself.