I used to have this notion that healers had it all figured out. I would work with someone and revel in their wisdom. I would assume they had cracked the code on how to care for themselves and not get sick and stay even keeled. Turns out, I was totally wrong. The most wrong. It is fucking hard to be sensitive in this world, to find the balance between caring for others and caring for yourself and to drag your tired ass to the bathroom to wash and moisturize your face twice a day. The struggle is real. So I preach and try to practice baby steps and small victories.
As I learn to accept my mercurial nature and my exhaustion and my deep connection to my inner healer, I am also learning that I require space. I require a break from living in an apartment off melrose where the energy is chaos. And it is hard to get away sometimes. Between running my own business and recovering from the leaky gut from hell, planning a trip with my love has not been easy. But we did it. It happened!
We drove North into what felt like fall and took a few days to breathe and wear sweaters and obsess over otters and eat way to much seafood and find treasures in antique stores and drive 17 miles along the coast and through the forest to Carmel and lay in bed and cuddle and eat saltwater taffy. It was like a dream. A way of replenishing for me. It allowed me to take a mini break from the anxiety that had become a part of my being. It allowed my love to find some peace from an impending move and building a business and dealing with me and the ups and downs of my health and moods.
I didn't necessarily come back with a bit more peace or a better grasp on my life, in fact I returned to stress and managing my world and anxiety and ahhh. But those few days were, they were simple and manageable. And that is my small victory. That is my baby step.