12 Nov
It’s the 12th of November, and this morning, my mind is a blank slate. Nothing is on my mind, apart from random thoughts about water—the hard rain outside, rinsing my toothbrush, measuring just enough water for the kettle. I’m pondering how water seems to be in all the wrong places, and the unverified thought that it arrived on the same asteroids that wiped out the dinosaurs. Can anything even be fact-checked in this post-truth world?
A random wisp of thought tells me I probably won’t be able to focus today.
Drawing the Four of Pentacles
The traditional figure looks like he’s made a bit of money and wants to hoard it, which doesn’t really resonate; I’m inclined to share what I have. But today, the cards seem to make more sense reversed, or maybe I’m just drawing a blank.
Financial instability and issues with management. Well, that’s true for everybody, isn’t it? Sarah Bartlett offers: structure, organisation and realistic planning are important.
I try to hold onto that thought, but my dear old wonky brain has already gone off on a tangent about Zeds to S’s (or rather S to Z). I’m looking at a UK-published book, and even that has ‘z’ instead of ‘s’ in the spelling of some words. As I prepare my post on my p.c, the S is being changed to a Z—it irks me. I’ve changed the settings before; why do they slip back? That’s five minutes of brain usage I’ll never get back.
Listening to the Body
I did just realise, though, that my right arm is already feeling tired, painful and lumpy..
If I listen to my body (and I am trying to) and make a connection with my brain—which is blank-to-gibberish today—I should aim to just get through the day with as little incident as possible. I shouldn’t attempt anything that requires any level of dexterity, thought, or planning.
Maybe if I think of the Pentacles as my energy, I need to be miserly with my energy today.
This interpretation is helpful. I’m more tuned in now:
- The weird prickly feeling in my muscles.
- The twitchiness in my sinews.
- The pulse in my brain I was confusing with the noise of the rain and the boiler.
This pulsing sound and sensation, I know will build to a pressure, trying to find its way out (usually via my left ear, or so it feels). Without due care and attention, I will bump into door frames, lose my balance (especially at the top of the stairs), feel vaguely nauseous all day, and be stiff and sore all over.
These are the kind of symptoms that brought the diagnosis of fibromyalgia. It’s weird and whacky because, even with careful thought, I can’t understand it. Why today—when I did relatively very little yesterday—I feel quite so unwell.
Message received: another rest day.
Another one! I want to fight it, but I mustn’t. Just a quick peek at Tina Gong before I go and rest: Do you remember your original goals? Find release. Create concrete goals.
Oh, Tina, I’m trying.