What makes life so intense and such a struggle for some of us? A patient said today getting up in the morning is like a new fight all over again.
Maybe that’s why some of us resist sleep. Late at night it’s comforting to be awake in the dark time when most people are asleep. I feel it now.
Last night I felt a strange inability to feel anything: I couldn’t even draw anything. I had nothing to say, not just nothing to express but nothing to say to any person asking what was on my mind. I felt like I’d never have anything to draw again. It wasn’t sadness or depression. It was like being in touch with nothingness. Blank.
This didn’t last. I woke up and at some point in the morning I felt a lot of things. It started out with anger and hopelessness. Bleak images, extreme violent fantasies, not of physical violence, but disturbing. Then I got to work and felt grounded. Later on I felt inspired. The wall of obstacles in my head melted and I looked up the principle of least effort and re acquainted myself with the 7 spiritual laws of success; I needed a structure that made sense. I listened to the loving kindness meditation and did it in my head and repeated it all day. It feels like an anchor for my wayward mind that seeks to get itself in trouble.
Suddenly I felt in touch with understanding that most of my struggles are with myself and pushing things instead of just letting go.
I felt relaxed and free; anxiety is so grasping, your hands hurt from trying to move things, control things, hold things, change things.
I had some moments of peace. I could really believe that I can just accept things as they are and myself too. I had clarity for the rest of the day. I felt connected to my work and my patients and other people.
I know the struggles of the mind; my own mind is a many splendored, crazy dark light place, often overfilled, every once in a while empty like last night, sometimes dark and stormy, torture. Often excited and brimming with enthusiasm about everything. Whatever I’m drawing painting making at the moment is leading me somewhere great. The next day I may throw out most of what I made.
I understand what my patient said about waking up in the morning constructed, anxious, dreading another struggle.
We are unseen warriors in an invisible fight. At least we can know that others experience life this way. I can’t change this; I can’t exchange my mind for a quieter one.
I can write about it here, and wake up tomorrow for another day of surprises.