Relative Something

Sometimes it is hard to write about the vacancy that happens during times the mind and body and soul fall out of sync with the place I refer to as optimal health. I picture it as something similar to when a heart goes into fibrillation or when I start typing really fast and then look up to see my hands weren’t in position on the home keys. It’s not that nothing is happening; actually a lot is happening, it just isn’t very productive, and as a result comes across as a vacancy.

For hearts, intervention can involve an intentional and measured shock. Maybe there is a proper dose of some kind of measured shock that would help to reset the rest of me. When my energy reserves are being stressed, the simple mental steps that help to avoid getting out of sync must show up a little slow and then I find myself behind the curve and it gets too inviting to let everything slide. That sets up the self-feeding downward spiral, so an enlightened mind is wise to disallow that process.

For me, sometimes hearing and feeling a strong dose of my favorite music works well to interrupt the dysfunctional pattern. Another successful interrupter is when someone needs my help and requires me to take immediate action to assist them. Left to my own devices, I generally prefer to succumb for a while and lay low, accomplishing little towards productive outcomes beyond entertaining myself with low level, mind numbing pastimes, or even sleep, which comes easy at times like this.

Last night, I chose the opposite of sleep. I let Cyndie talk me into driving up to our lake place in the middle of the night. It does me a large dose of therapy to wake up and look out at the sun rising over the glassy lake at my most sacred place. The drive up was pretty therapeutic, too. Even though it was a bit cool, we kept the top down and the moon was on display, accented with a few clouds as we got farther north. We threw in a bit of music therapy, as well, playing live recordings of some of my favorite artists from my youth. We turned the amp up to 11 and rocked out to Derek & the Dominos (In Concert) and The Band (Rock of Ages) for the entire 3-hour, non-stop dash and arrived at 1:15 this morning.

Even given the lack of a full night’s liver-healing sleep, I feel better already. I plan to do a little additional sleeping in the hammock that swings just outside the door, looking out at the lake. That’s just the kind of measured shock I’m hoping for right now.