Am I This Far Off….?

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Am I this far off balance that I cannot hear the Voice of my Soul? That I cannot quit what is taking from me? That I cannot smile? That people avoid me? That I am not sure I like anyone or care about anything? Am I so off balance that I cannot give to anyone, especially those who I can feel trying to pull energy from me (this, however is the best thing that has come out of this experience)? Am I so off balance that it is finally showing on my face and my daughter says last night, “Mom, you look like a zombie—you look dead inside.”

I must fight for what’s alive inside.

But, am I so off balance that I don’t have the capacity to fight? Women, mostly, speak of having balance. There’s no such thing as balance when her plate is too full, and overflowing. She must toss some things off her plate. This is what I must do—sooner, rather than later or life will do it for me.

I need a permanent solution because when I create some space I do find my Soul again, and she speaks. But then I return to what takes her away. I know taking off work today is only a small, round band-aid for the gaping, empty wound inside.

The culture I live in appreciates my burn out. It’s all a part of my success, it says. I say, fuck the culture. If I am to get any kind of outer success I don’t want it like this. I need to feel alive and whole again. This, to me, is the only success worth having. There was a time when it was my Soul and my children that received all my attention. Yet, I felt incomplete. I had no career. I wasn’t saving the world. No I try to do this while trying to take care of my children and myself. It has taken its toll.

So, what do I do now….? I do not know. I am so off balance I do not know I care. At least this is how I feel now.

The Soul Reporter

Balance Shmalance

Sweatshirt. Sweatpants. Hair gray and uncut for several months. No exercise. Eating carbs. Daughter spending too much time in her room.

Signs my life is completely out of balance. But I’m not concerned. When I wore Missoni and Ralph Lauren, never going beyond 8 weeks for a fresh cut and color, worked out at the Y or with a trainer and every meal was gluten-free- there was one necessary agenda item missing- work.

But now, I’m working. Writing, actually. Looking for agents. Contacting published authors. Writing pitches. Gathering material for an outline and a proposal. All this in preparation for finally putting all my pieces together to form a book. I’ve never taken the time to do this, but I have taken the time for many other things, most of which did not satisfy for long.

It occurred to me today, as I looked at the dishes piling up in the sink that- at this point in my journey to work is paramount. Yes, my children, especially the 11-year old may feel I am not available even though I am two steps away in my bedroom, but for 19 years, I’ve been available full time to them. And if I want to spoil my grandbabies someday, and if I want that life I’ve imagined I must work. If I want to answer the only call calling right now, I must work.

On the surface, my life may look out of balance, and even if it is, I am willing to be off kilter for awhile because I know once I am established in my work, my other great mission here on the planet, these other pieces like new hair and clothes and fun times with the kids will fall into place.

So, here I go.  More, here I am. In a new space. Absorbed. Willing to wear my sweatpants and look like a grub for just a while longer.

I look forward to sharing more of this new journey with you.

Namaste,

The Soul Reporter