It is a chilly Sunday morning as I’m sipping my protein shake and by all means autumn has been ushered in like a lion.  I’ve been going through the inbox in my primary email address, one of three accounts I manage on a daily basis, and it has served as a trip down memory lane.  Most of the stuff I’m deleting, others I am replying to and a select few are getting dragged into appropriately labeled folders for future reference.  This purification program is surely serving to sharpen an introspective focus on all levels in mind, body and spirit.

I awoke this morning feeling well-rested and recollecting a dream in which I’d returned to my former employer.  I felt a sense of pride that they’d asked me back, although as I entered the familiar den of cubicles the reception from co-workers was less than inspired, the drones too consumed in their own misery just as I recall when I had been employed there.  And so my subconscious is clearing away debris not unlike the cells in various systems of my body.  I am reminded that before we can be fully available to move forward in life, we must take out the old to make space for the new.

Yesterday was a bit intense as sadness swept over me.  After visiting my cousin in the hospital, who appears to be recovering nicely all things considered, I returned home feeling sluggish as I laid on the sofa flipping between college football games.  I then noticed cloudy skies give way to some sunlight and was drawn down to the lake where I proceeded to take a long walk along the beach to Sturgeon Point with waves crashing ashore as strong southwest winds prevailed.  I felt as though my burdens were being cleansed and suddenly a smile took hold on my face as I felt my heart open to the possibilities once again.

I’m reminded on these cleanses just how much we distract ourselves from our emotions, with “comfort food” as a notorious outlet.  When undesirable feelings arise we’ll do anything not to feel it, hence the rampant addictive and self-destructive behavior that has become increasingly commonplace in our modern world.  They’ve diagnosed my cousin’s condition as “depression”, which is simply a persistent sadness, most commonly arising when our attention remains focused on the past, particularly events we perceived as hurtful or even traumatic.  The last few days have provided me ample opportunity to reflect on the past, and as my dreams attest, a clean sweep of my entire being.

In common wealth,

SjK

It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat. – Theodore Roosevelt

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