“You have to remember you’re still grieving,” she said as she filled my teacup with the blessed amber liquid. “You’re not in your right mind and it could be months still before you are again for any good period of time.”
I brought the porcelain cup to my lips and blew out a breath I’d been holding to cool and to calm. I’d been tense for weeks with no concrete reason, nothing to point to. So I had gone searching. There had to be a direct cause for the unease I felt within. Something must need to change. The discomfort was heavy and relentless. It sent me scrambling: Look for a job, re-evaluate your relationship, change your food plan (once again).
She was reading my thoughts. “There’s no solid ground out here. You won’t find it in him. You won’t find it in your career. Stop looking. In fact, honey, just stop,” she said gently, sweeping a lock of hair from her eyes.
I clenched my jaw in mild challenge. “I have to live though. I have to get up each day and do the things I need to do.”
She smiled. “Yes,” she said. “You do.”
“And sometimes,” I continued. “Sometimes things need to change. I get restless.”
Again she smiled. “Yes, sweetheart,” she said. “You do.”
I placed my cup in the saucer and rubbed at my brow. “How many times can I think about this? You’re really asking me to look at this again?”
She reached out and touched my arm as if to remind me she wasn’t the enemy…that there was no enemy. “You don’t need to think about anything. But you do have to acknowledge that ball of anxiety in the pit of your stomach. You know, the one you thought was gone for good?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded.
“Look at that. Look at how you feel. Share it with your Inner Guide. Be willing to see it differently. That’s it. That’s all”
I knew of all this. And I secretly hated having to be reminded again and again, but here we were. “So don’t do anything?” I asked, already knowing what her answer would be.
“Being honest with yourself and your Higher Power is everything. What else is there to do once you’ve done that?” she said throwing her hands up in the air. “Do it consistently, and your direction is clearer. Less stress…less struggle.”
I laughed. I’d done this before. I knew that it worked and yet… “You make it sound so easy.”
She sipped her tea and winked at me. “It’s simple. It’s not easy.”
I took a deep breath. “I just thought maybe I was done with the grief. I thought it must be something else.”
“I don’t need to tell you this because at some level you know, but it’s all the same. You don’t have to go looking for problems outside of you. It’s all there at the seat of your gut.”
I felt it. And while all I wanted to do was run and hide in a sea of problems that maybe I could “fix” on my own, or force it out with food, or bury myself in romance, or busy myself in a quest to find the perfect job…I couldn’t anymore.
I was here, again, at the crossroads. And instead of picking right or left, backward or forth, I had to sit my ass down and feel. And surrender.
Something tells me this doesn’t end.
Until it does.