This week, my gratitude takes a different form. Usually, I race to the computer on a Saturday morning, eager to extract, examine and catalogue the deliciousness that has nestled into my week. But today, I feel like a gentler type of reflection is in order.
Every morning this past week, I have woken enveloped by fug. I've felt numb, dazed, pessimistic. Unmotivated. Disinterested. Disheartened.
I now know that this means that I am protecting myself from something... and it's likely that I am more afraid to face this something than I really need to be. I also know that if I can locate this something and face it with curiosity and compassion, then it will likely dissolve into something more benign. Just another part of my story, and nothing I can't carry.
But it has taken work. To push through the fug. To stop and drill into the holes, especially the ones I have dismissed as being too small to be significant. Often it's those small ones that reveal gaping huge caverns underneath. To sit with the feelings I uncover and truly grieve.
It's been exhausting.
And, if I'm going to be honest, not always productive.
I don't always get it right. I sometimes bark up the wrong tree. I often get confused and am easily overwhelmed. And then there's everyday life, trotting right alongside this process, calling me to step up and do my best by my little 'un, husband, family, friends, colleagues.
So what I am grateful for is the feeling that I know will reward me at the end of this process, on those days when I do get it right. Spaciousness. Pride. A clear head and a light heart.
As time goes on, I know this will get easier. I'll be able to click into the work with greater ease. I'll be less likely to get sidetracked or overwhelmed. The shifts will come more readily. I may even be able to ward off the fug before it descends.
It's been a powerful thing to realise that this stuff never really goes away -- and that that's not the point of all this navel gazing -- but that I can learn to manage it a whole lot better. I love the idea that a fug can be just that, and not so overwhelming, disappointing, debilitating.
So today, I am grateful for the tools. Grateful for the knowledge. Grateful for the journey.
Grateful for me.
Be sure to share the things you are grateful for at Maxabella's gorgeous new location!
It is impressive that you have listened to your body's signals. So many people miss it or ignore it.
ReplyDeleteI'm hopeless at this sort of inner reflection, Kat. Hats off to you, I say! I hope the fugly fug has already said its goodbyes! x
ReplyDeleteI read elsewhere today "You have to feel it to heal it". It is great that you can recognise the fug for what it is. I love the way you write Kat.
ReplyDeletefirst - thanx for your comment. means so much to be noticed. second - fug is part of life. it's just a pass through to a better moment... third - as long as your heart is beating there is a chance you will be susceptible to 'fug' and that's not so bad is it?
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