BLE: Morning pages

I haven't' been journaling, whether I am avoiding instigating a trailhead for parts work or just too lazy is beyond my ken. The pull to dive into animal crossings of a morning has lessened, partly due to Wordle, partly due to morning meditations, but it's nice to feel free from that. 

I need to journal, that comes up again and again in testimonials and chats and SPT's vlogs, and most recently in the BLE Maintenance modules. Most recently the cue to journal around grief as related to the BLE journey. I have been reluctant to do it here because of my history of whining, which is what eventually always drives me away - I have come to hate the pity pool I so often dissolve into. I know the work is important, so I will give it a try. The question is what have I lost, how do I feel about it, and what is the outcome - I think. Damn, I'll have to look it up again.

What have I lost?

The drug. Being able to eat my way into a coma-state where I don't have to think or feel. Disappearing into a book or movie while eating was my go-to escape for most of my life. Losing a forty year habit is a huge change, and has been the hardest comfort to give up. And that all goes back to being a small child and feeling rebellious at having to be here. Here being on earth having a human experience. As a child it was a simple though, frustrated that I was having to be here when all I wanted was to just go back. How that single thought on a beautiful southern California day has pestered me my whole life is amazing.

Untethered. That is how I think of my life. How I blew from one thing to another without drive or ambition, how I just went with the flow.  But that's not really true, is it? I had to have made things happen or I wouldn't have left home at 19 to live in San Francisco, Wouldn't have moved to the East Bay and met my future husband. Wouldn't have purchased the home I still live in. And wouldn't be moving back South to live with my Mother in September.

I suppose part of the treasure of journaling is that  you never quite know where you will end up if you just start writing. This morning is a beginning, and I will try once again to make it a practice to journal my morning pages here.

Back to the original intent, and how do I feel about it, will have to wait. Instead a rowdy five year old with a newly missing tooth has inserted himself onto my lap making this an exercise in futility.

I wouldn't change a thing.