Five -Thirteen in the Morning



It’s 5:13 in the morning and I’ve been up since 4:40. I had a bad dream about trying to drive through the Italian Alps in an electric car with a limited charge and no cash. The roads were lined with toll booths that only took cash and not a charging station in sight. The discomfort of the dream awoke me. So with my ears ringing, and my heart and head pounding, I lay here now at 5:22 wide awake writing this pathetic shit.

So I finished the first paragraph, and my mind began to wander. So I started doom scrolling around to apps I enjoy. One which feeds my head and the other that feeds my soul. Now it’s 6:25 and my day is coming into focus. The ice pack on my head is working, my thoughts aren’t as urgent, and my thoughts are relaxing. The old heart is working much more smoothly. Recently a young friend commented on a piece I wrote, that I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. I wish I could explain to them that the piece was just a moment, a photograph if you will. Where I have now purged myself of that thought and it doesn’t hurt anymore.

Telling them that sometimes confession is good for the soul. That those ill thoughts are a way for the soul to release the pain that it holds. It’s 6:35 and fairly soon my bride will be getting up. I can attest to the fact that she slept well. I often say I’m jealous, but really I’m glad. Glad that for someone in this bed is resting. But I shouldn’t hold that against her, because in our own way we all carry pain, maybe some of us just wear it better than others. While I may be considered by some to be a healer or a fixer in some ways. I am also a brute and an abuser, because I often lash out at others for being alone.

But that’s just the way I am, warts and all. Now it’s 7:41, and the bed has been made, and the pills have been taken and everything will be fine till noon.

#Time #Perception #Dreams #CompassionateListening #Acceptance




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