From This Place

"Often what seems like an error is a lesson in patience and resilience or even a sign that something better is on the way. It isn't about controlling every outcome!" This is what my morning calendar said, and though I don't feel it yet, I needed to hear that. It has been five months since I have been looking for work with no success. To be very transparent, I am about as discouraged as I can be. It's not just the job, but everything in my life is crumbling. My lifelong joy of ice skating is nearly impossible for me to do anymore. The years of abuse have taken their toll on my body, and it has broken down faster than it should, leaving me in constant pain. No matter how positive my attitude is, reality remains.

As I was trying to explain my internal workings to my partner this morning, I used an example of stopping to get milk on the way home. My intelligence tells me that it should be a simple task, but the thought of doing that sent internal alarm bells off, creating anxiety, and the next thing I know, I'm having to pep-talk myself into stopping and going into the store. This is autism coupled with other conditions at work. Growing up, I had to stuff that down and somehow perform outwardly through it, but that just meant that I carried a brick in my chest. Now, I'm saying all this partially to complain, but also as a permission to feel all this. Emotions are a connection to others and need to be treated with value.

As I try to breathe through all the incoming emotion, I use tactical things to help me stay present. My card draw was from Maia Toll's Crystallary deck. First draw, Morganite, which represents emotional healing. "The things that are not you get slowly crowded out by the truths of your soul. This is not a quick process." So, what are the truths of my soul? For today, the second card helped. Citrine: Joy, abundance, energy. " Tune outward, Citrine reminds, watching as you haltingly move your gaze from your own troubles to the tiny leaves unfurling on the tree. The world is full of riches, and in that abundance, you'll find your joy." The struggle to mend what is broken is real, but learning to receive joy while we heal is a beautiful thing.

The autistic part of me tends to obsess, and the abused part of me still feels lazy if I don't push myself to exhaustion. So, I get a death grip on something and won't let go until it is finished. The problem is that life is never finished, so I end up in continual "on" mode, which does not allow for rest. Now, I have been gently working on releasing my grip, but this is directly linked to my early life, in which I was given no right to choose. It will definitely be an uphill climb, but I plan on enjoying my journey right where I am. One step upward and a moment to soak in what I find. I'm not there yet, but I will be continuing to embrace my inner curiosity.