I can jump out of airplanes or present to rooms of over 200 including some higher up types. Like any normal person those things make me nervous, but I take a deep breath and forge forward. Math is the exception.
I’m not sure when, where or why math became such a trigger for me…but it sends me reeling. The anxiety easily hit’s a 9. I stare at the professors mouth, watch the numbers he writes down but absorb nothing. On Friday is my mid term in Qualitative Analysis.
Besides math, there’s one other thing I’m not very skilled at - asking for help. I have written out the study schedule but what I really need is a strong online guided meditation that is easy to access to use before/after each study session. So I’m putting the request out to my blog friends to help me find a short, calming, confidence boosting guided meditation that will get me out of my head & through this exam. So I’m asking. Pleading. If you know of one……HELP!!
Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. ~ Yoda
That little green guy was on to something.
The unhappiest of people are their own captors. They have allowed fear of change, fear of failure or fear of a broken heart to rule their lives. They blame circumstance or someone else. Sometimes when I say “they” I mean me.
Thankfully, that’s not where I am right now…but hearing that quote today was a reminder that dark or light is not a feeling but a choice. Choose carefully young Skywalkers.
After 9-11, once all the family and dear friends were accounted for, I became immobilized. I don’t want to go into it. I still cant talk about it. The point is I couldn’t move on. I devoured newspapers and magazines. They are all sitting in a tupperware storage bin I don’t know if I’ll ever open but cannot throw out.
I’m having a love-hate relationship with NPR since the Haiti earthquake. I know that if I change the channel I can listen to some celebrity saga or pop music, but I don’t. I sit. Sick with grief while I drive, sometimes listening to the same clips over and over. The same newly orphaned children wailing in the background. Numbers like 200,00 dead ringing in my head. If I just open facebook I can be flooded with comments about the Jets game or the Massachusetts election. I don’t want to.
Others can open their checkbook and wipe away the pain. That’s good. That’s productive. That’s not me. I have to look at a thing straight in the eye no matter how it hurts. Maybe it’s part of saying goodbye, maybe I just want to know that their story was seen, heard and felt completely if only by a stranger in another country. In it’s own twisted way, in times like this, I belive love is the other side of pain. If I just sit through it and share the burden it could help.
In times like these it is the VERY least I can do.
