This post diverges from the series I’ve been writing On Art and Writing. I find it disappointing. I was just about to get to the really good parts of non-verbal expression and delight in creation. But in many ways, it is like a switch has flipped. I haven’t quite crossed that bridge. I haven’t quite experienced that delight. I’m still recovering.
My mind is following an old path. I find myself checking my email as a way to give myself direction and define what it is I am “supposed” to be doing, rather than a means of connection. I wake in the middle of the night running lists of what I need to do, rather than simply contemplating the way the streetlight casts shadows. I’m stuck on doing. That is the problem. I’m not embracing my being.
I can’t quite identify how or when it happened. I know Monday was a wonderful day. Tuesday, I felt intense, creative, alive. Tuesday night I got smacked upside the head with a random onset from my chronic bronchitis. Three years in a row now, I suffer from it this time of year. Three years in a row, I suffer with it as I submit a specific set of documents.
It feels like a reminder. A reminder of what a slippery slope addiction and recovery can be. I found myself disappointed in myself. “I want to prove that I can be successful in breaking through my addiction.” Then I have to laugh at how ridiculous that it. I have to draw boundaries. I have to turn off my email. I have to know that I have a choice in what I do and how I choose to be. I have to remember that I am recovering. I have to focus on breathing. I have to remember the value of balance.
I can remember what it means to be human. I can remember what it means to listen.
Above all, I can know that some days are just better than others. I can know that I am not alone. I can know that this too shall pass. And in time, I will celebrate the next milestone in my recovery. Whatever it might be.