Sunny one day (see previous post), a bit gloomy the next.
I am reminded of terms such as "psychological scars" and "traumas in the body." I think anyone who has lived, has experienced both to some degree. Some of us more than others. I think luck and circumstance have a lot to do with it. The challenge for us all; how do we react in times of trauma, stress and doubt? And, then, of course, we all experience loss; in some ways a well-lived life is one's personal history of loss. See Nick Cave's "What is the Point of Life?" for some elucidation on loss.
Anyway, yesterday, late afternoon I had a bit of a corrosive conversation with a close friend. Nothing earth-shattering, but it sent me into a tail-spin of doubt. A little journey to hell. Funny it really was a nothing conversation, but it opened a door to some deep-seated memories of failure and futility, and those memories, surprisingly, were still alive in my consciousness, alive in my body, buried deep, waiting to be re-experienced. None of my tools for meditation or relaxation were of any help.
So later that night, I tossed and turned in a big fluffy, comfy bed. What should have been a fabulous, restful sleep, was a bit of a boxing match in my head. I was both the one throwing punches, and the one receiving them too. Who knew?!
Still waters run deep. Yes, indeed.
