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.