Please help your self to some self-help…
Please help your self to some self-help-I’m giving it away free…
Seven of my self-help/improvement/enlightenment books are doing a terrific job- holding up my bedside lamp. The eighth is giving stalwart service as a coaster for the bloody camomile tea. To add insult to injury, it was suggested that I save the cold camomile tea bags and use them as eye masks. Well they are organic…?!
I feel as though I am standing facing a blank wall with my nose nearly touching it. I can’t magically spirit myself through the wall, I can’t knock it down and there seems to be no way round it. Life shouldn’t be like this; waiting for something to happen, even when that something is specific, and even more so if it’s something that is surrounded by mists of fear.
All the affirmations and admonitions to be patient, to relax and allow life to unfold/evolve/ (or bloody evaporate at this rate) are falling on impatient ears.
My determination to create a CV and take a small step into the world of theatre has fallen by the wayside. My note to self to finish the play I started a few years ago (about a wedding, there’s a surprise) and maybe even try to put the damn thing on somewhere, have subsided in a stew of apathy – or more truly endemic lack of confidence. Okay, back in the saddle – or rather back on the yoga mat- and gallop across fields of meditation, mindfulness and being in the bloody moment. Again, it strikes me that it’s not so much that my mind is a machine that always plays the same looped tape , but a permanent minstrel wandering the fields with the fairies half the time and the other half wondering when the next bottle of wine and bar of chocolate will be along.
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