Awakening with this epiphany, I laughed. Really, four epiphanies in one night of sleep? It sounded like a strange play or movie concept.
This epiphany was about my daily mantras.
I awoke with the realization that I don't really use daily mantras. I use situational mantras and even hourly mantras.
I chant to myself, be calm, be strong, be relaxed. No fears, no doubts, no worries, no anger, no resentment, no bitterness, no stress, no anxiety.
I remind myself, I am a mountain. I am strong, becoming stronger under pressure.
I encourage myself, use all your crayons. Color like mad.
I inhale sharply and whisper, be positive. Let's go. Time to write like crazy.
I take a deep breath and order, okay, time to do this, one step at a time, left foot, right foot.
I let my shoulders slump and sit still for a moment and wonder what I'm doing and why I'm doing this. Then I remember, you have a dream and a vision. You're creating a manifest vision of who you are. Remember your dream, I tell myself, and left my head and start again.
Moments arrive when I despise work and resent its intrusions. It frustrates me and adds to my stress, and I just want to scream. Sometimes I read about all the terrible things that go on in the world and think, my god, why do we treat one another like this? Surely in an intelligent, civilized world we can rise above this. People murdering and torturing others, imprisoning them, denying rights and often with the most senseless of reasons. These acts are cruel, hard blows on my psyche.
I ache. I ache with my friends' losses as family members die. I worry for them over their health. I listen to speeches and read articles and sign petitions and I wonder and worry and fall ill with hopelessness.
These are the days I ride, from down in the dark troughs one hour to a writing high in another. Which one will influence me most?
It's against these I battle with mantras throughout the day. I weave and conjure energy, casting counterspells, deflecting weariness, coaxing and encouraging myself to go on, reminding myself, this too, shall pass, even as I mock myself and ask, but what will it leave in its wake? My reserves fall short. My tensions and frustrations rise. I seek new mantras --
And I write. I write in my head, I scribble on paper, I post in a blog, I write stories on a computer. When its deepest and darkest, my writing is my greatest comfort, letting me voice my rants and despair, releasing it so I can go on. Endure, I tell myself, perservere. Hope. Dream. Believe.
So, writing this in my head, as sleep and the night slip past me, I amuse myself with one final thought, it's been a night of four epiphanies.
What a strange night.
Then I returned to sleep.
Causes Michael Seidel Supports
Kiva, Women's International League for Peace and Freedom, Propublica.org, Doctors Without Borders, GreaterGood.com