I woke up this morning with a bug.
My throat hurt. My body was sore. I felt nauseous, and both of my ears were blocked.
I asked Ken to get Briggs to daycare. I cancelled therapy. Worked from the front porch in pajamas.
You’re run down. Take an hour for yoga. Try writing a few pages. Go for a walk. Make a juice. Send some reiki.
I could hear my good intentions – just couldn’t listen to them. So, I sank deeper into work and worry, until a tiny red spider caught my attention.
It’s eight little legs crept up my forearm. I swatted on impulse. A mindless reaction to the slightest, innocent startle.
Not so long ago, I stomped and squished and swatted anything that made me the slightest bit uncomfortable. Always reacting out of fear. If I didn’t get to it first, it would surely wreak havoc on me.
I’ve spent nearly a year dedicated to improving my personal practice of gratitude, optimism, and awareness…and a lapse in just a few weeks, and I can already see the holes in this beautiful, invisible safety net I’ve been working on weaving.
Doesn’t mean you have to fall all the way through.
A few hours later, another spider, on the other arm. This time, I didn’t move so fast. Felt her speedily crawl down, as I slowly made my way up and out to gently shoo her into the the potted garden on our front steps.
An hour later, as I went to secure the back of the house (finally finding the strength to venture out), I noticed a fly trapped between the screen door and the exterior door – and so I took an extra step to let it free before switching the locks.
As I got into the car an ant found it’s way to my flip flop – and my big toe found a way to help it get back to the colony, before we headed out for a night as a family.
I woke up this morning with a bug, any maybe that’s precisely what I needed to get back to the practice of getting better.