I haven't blogged, or even been on my computer, for a while now. As the title reads, I've been busy. Last Thursday was a jam-packed day. I went swimming in the morning and, for the first time in a few years, actually swam. I did the breast stroke, side stroke, and back stroke. I floated and got my hair completely wet. A major incentive for this dive (pardon the pun) into swimming activity was the appointment I had in the afternoon with my hairdresser. My hair is naturally curly and looks especially hideous after I've dunked it in pool water.
At any rate, I had a blast! Then on to the hairdresser who made me presentable once again, then an impulsive trip to the grocery. I needed to go to the grocery, but was hesitant to do so much in one day. The temperature was high and I have to use my supplemental oxygen now when I shop or walk a more-than-normal-distance. I even wore it while walking up the stairs to get to my hairdresser's salon. I always get out of breath doing that so I knew I needed the oxygen.
Was I still embarrassed? Oh yes. Actually, I got rather nervous in the grocery. I shopped hurriedly, wanting to get out quickly. I could feel my shoulders hunching up, head going down, at times feeling somewhat faint. These are anxiety symptoms. I know them all - too well. But I did it.
The next day I was invited to go to an art class with my daughter and granddaughter, but the art place wasn't open so we went shopping instead at my favorite craft store. I had brought my portable oxygen with me, just in case, and it turned out I needed it as we were going to be walking around in the store. Some children there stared at me, running around corners, then sneaking back to catch another glimpse. Perhaps they thought I was a mermaid who needed oxygen while out of the water. Or perhaps they had simply never seen anyone out in public before with a cannula strapped to her face.
I made a big mistake after that shopping adventure, partly because of the little girls' reaction. My daughter went to a nearby grocery to get items for us to make lunch back at my house and my granddaughter and I opted to stay in the air conditioned car. Come to think of it, I made two mistakes. There in the car alone with my granddaughter, I asked her: "Does this bother you?" - speaking of the cannula, etc. That was my first mistake. I should have not have asked. I should have waited until, or if, she asked about it. My second mistake was to ask her if she wanted me to take it off. Her answers were: "Yes," and "It's yucky." That made tears stream down my face. (Did I mention I was nervous that day, too? Walking around with that darn thing just does make me nervous!) OK, make that three mistakes as I did take out the cannula and turn off the tank.
I should have handled that part, at least, more confidently. When she said, "It's yucky," instead of crying and removing the offense I could have said, "No, it's not. Sometimes people need different kinds of medicine to help different kinds of illnesses. This contraption puts more oxygen in my system and makes me healthier." Brilliant, eh? Too bad it didn't happen.
Because of my anxiety problems, I've been in and out of therapy for decades. I have learned that one should never use the word, "should." Now there's some irony. But "should" is a valid word with a valid meaning and I believe in the preceding I have used it as I should. And once again. To have used the word "could" may have been more psychologically appropriate and maybe even more accurate. I don't know. All I do know is that as I'm writing this, I know I should have handled the situation with my granddaughter in a more positive manner. When the situation comes up again, and I'm sure it will, hopefully I will be more confident with my oxygen enhancement and be more confident in speaking about it with my granddaughter.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Feeling a little glum today...
And so what?
Well, You, it does matter. I believe that depression got You into this mess in the first place - the mess of having to have supplemental oxygen, that is. When You lost Your job in November of 2009, You spent a lot of time just sitting in a, more of less, frozen position on the couch. That is, when You weren't sleeping. In other words, You weren't getting up and walking around very much. Not nearly as much as when You were working.
I hate working.
That's OK. But at least now You are up and around, trying to move as much as possible and that does matter. See?
Yes, and I should be tired by now of talking to myself and referencing myself as "You." But that's OK, too. I just didn't feel like getting out of bed this morning and maybe I didn't feel like talking myself out of it, which is what I just did. So I'm glad I got up and blogged first thing. I do actually feel a little better now. Yesterday was a long day. Qigong class in the morning, which ran long, then playing with my granddaughter all afternoon. I loved that, of course, and Qigong class, too. I'm just not used to doing so much in one day. Something I will work on. Perhaps scheduling two activities for each day. Going to the pool, then maybe a drive somewhere. Or a small shopping trip, then a walk. Who knows? Each day is different and each day is still a little depressing and scary. I do NOT want to have to have that walking-around-oxygen-tank. I hate it. I was brave when I went to the grocery, but I really, really hate it.
Well, there's talking to Myself in here, depression, and ending with rage. Good deal. On with another day... And P.S., I'm lonely. Boo hoo. Ah, Grasshopper, don't make light of Your loneliness. It's part of Your overall problem.
Well, You, it does matter. I believe that depression got You into this mess in the first place - the mess of having to have supplemental oxygen, that is. When You lost Your job in November of 2009, You spent a lot of time just sitting in a, more of less, frozen position on the couch. That is, when You weren't sleeping. In other words, You weren't getting up and walking around very much. Not nearly as much as when You were working.
I hate working.
That's OK. But at least now You are up and around, trying to move as much as possible and that does matter. See?
Yes, and I should be tired by now of talking to myself and referencing myself as "You." But that's OK, too. I just didn't feel like getting out of bed this morning and maybe I didn't feel like talking myself out of it, which is what I just did. So I'm glad I got up and blogged first thing. I do actually feel a little better now. Yesterday was a long day. Qigong class in the morning, which ran long, then playing with my granddaughter all afternoon. I loved that, of course, and Qigong class, too. I'm just not used to doing so much in one day. Something I will work on. Perhaps scheduling two activities for each day. Going to the pool, then maybe a drive somewhere. Or a small shopping trip, then a walk. Who knows? Each day is different and each day is still a little depressing and scary. I do NOT want to have to have that walking-around-oxygen-tank. I hate it. I was brave when I went to the grocery, but I really, really hate it.
Well, there's talking to Myself in here, depression, and ending with rage. Good deal. On with another day... And P.S., I'm lonely. Boo hoo. Ah, Grasshopper, don't make light of Your loneliness. It's part of Your overall problem.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
I am my own cheerleader
This started out as a pity party. Because I live alone, it would be nice to have someone cheer me on. Someone to say they were proud of me for going to the grocery and the pool. Probably someone has (after the fact) and in my pity mode of today I've just forgotten. But I do realize that I always have been and always will be the best cheerleader - or heckler - I can have. That's just the way it is. I would seriously like to stop heckling myself, downgrading, degrading, etc. and I believe I am more successful at this as the years go by. My "inner critic" is not nearly so loud as she used to be. Glad to report, however, that my inner child is still capable of great play!
I've been to the pool twice this week, having a good time and staying about two and a half hours each time. Yesterday, before I went to the pool, my heart was pounding which could mean my oxygen is low. I took a reading (something I'm not supposed to do, but I did). Anyway, the oximeter was beeping which means either oxygen is too low or heart rate is too high or both. Yesterday it was both, but my oxygen level began to rise even though my heart rate finally "cooled down" to around 110. It started at above 120. Since my oxygen was OK I said what the heck - I'm going to the pool! And I did. And I had fun. And the amazing thing was, when I did get to the pool I never noticed that my heart was pounding or racing. I didn't even think about it.
It is still difficult for me to know when my "symptoms" are illness related or just nerves. I think yesterday it was a little of both, but obviously mostly nerves as I had a great time.
Back to the original pity fest, I suppose I was wondering if I will always have to be my own cheerleader to get myself going. Well, why not? I'm the best one who knows what's going on inside me. And I am the only one, really, who can make myself healthier, continue to exercise, go out, and do things. Even when it seems embarrassing or hard or scary.
So rah, rah, rah for me!!!!! Two, four, six, eight. Who do I appreciate? Me! Me! Me!!!!!!!!!!!!
I've been to the pool twice this week, having a good time and staying about two and a half hours each time. Yesterday, before I went to the pool, my heart was pounding which could mean my oxygen is low. I took a reading (something I'm not supposed to do, but I did). Anyway, the oximeter was beeping which means either oxygen is too low or heart rate is too high or both. Yesterday it was both, but my oxygen level began to rise even though my heart rate finally "cooled down" to around 110. It started at above 120. Since my oxygen was OK I said what the heck - I'm going to the pool! And I did. And I had fun. And the amazing thing was, when I did get to the pool I never noticed that my heart was pounding or racing. I didn't even think about it.
It is still difficult for me to know when my "symptoms" are illness related or just nerves. I think yesterday it was a little of both, but obviously mostly nerves as I had a great time.
Back to the original pity fest, I suppose I was wondering if I will always have to be my own cheerleader to get myself going. Well, why not? I'm the best one who knows what's going on inside me. And I am the only one, really, who can make myself healthier, continue to exercise, go out, and do things. Even when it seems embarrassing or hard or scary.
So rah, rah, rah for me!!!!! Two, four, six, eight. Who do I appreciate? Me! Me! Me!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
I did it!
I'm three days late in writing about it, but I did go to the grocery store with my oxygen-tank-in-a-bag. When I wrote my last blog, I was misreading the clock. When I wrote it was quarter to five, it was really only quarter to four. After I finished writing, I combed by hair, checked my oxygen tank and took off. It was 4:30 p.m.
I didn't drive with the tank on because I don't have to. It's for walking long distances or for a long time. That's when my oxygen gets low. Back to the subject. I found a parking spot relatively close, then I put the cannula in, slung the strap of the - yes, it's still heavy! - bag over my shoulder and took off. It's a large, popular grocery store. But I walked through the parking lot looking straight ahead and when I got inside, I got a cart and put the bag in the basket. Phew! A relief not to have to carry it. I pushed the cart around and did my shopping leisurely. I found that I was indeed in better shape with the extra oxygen than without. Apparently, my oxygen level has been low for quite a while.
At first, I avoided eye contact with other people. Then I said to myself, what the heck? So I proceeded to shop as if I were normal - i.e., that I wasn't attached to a tube that dispensed oxygen. That was great except for the fact that the tube is rather short and the bag was in the cart basket. I would park my cart in order to peruse items in an aisle only to be pulled up short by the tube like a dog on a leash. Now that was embarrassing!
Of course the bag boy offered to take my groceries to my car - they always do - and I always refuse. I did on Sunday, too. I had no trouble pushing the cart back to my car and putting the groceries in the trunk. I did, however, have trouble bringing the groceries into my kitchen. It was hot and by the time I got them all in, I was quite breathless. And still using the oxygen. But I settled down quickly and felt time. My recovery time is short and I know that is in my favor. Still, I intend to go shopping more often and buy less at any given time. That way it won't be so hard on me. Meanwhile, I continue to work towards increasing my oxygen level without supplemental help.
Did people stare at me in the store? Probably. I caught a few glimpses out of the corner of my eye, but would not say in a court of law that they were looking at me. In short, it was OK. Sometimes you've just got to do what you've got to do. And I did.
My brother called me yesterday. He didn't know I was "on the tank," so to speak, so I told him that and also relayed my grocery store adventure. He didn't like that I struggled to get the groceries in the house and told me to let him know anytime I need help with anything. He said he would meet me at my house and take the groceries in for me and I better let him know when I went shopping! This is from a man who just underwent heart valve replacement surgery. What a guy. He doesn't talk much, but he loves me and since we were children, he has always been my Big Brother Protector. I love him very much.
Well, that's the denouement of my embarrassment story. I did OK, but I'm still determined to not have to rely on those tanks for air. It is my intention to increase my oxygen level on my own.
Got to run. It's morning and I have things I do in the morning. Lots and lots of things!
I didn't drive with the tank on because I don't have to. It's for walking long distances or for a long time. That's when my oxygen gets low. Back to the subject. I found a parking spot relatively close, then I put the cannula in, slung the strap of the - yes, it's still heavy! - bag over my shoulder and took off. It's a large, popular grocery store. But I walked through the parking lot looking straight ahead and when I got inside, I got a cart and put the bag in the basket. Phew! A relief not to have to carry it. I pushed the cart around and did my shopping leisurely. I found that I was indeed in better shape with the extra oxygen than without. Apparently, my oxygen level has been low for quite a while.
At first, I avoided eye contact with other people. Then I said to myself, what the heck? So I proceeded to shop as if I were normal - i.e., that I wasn't attached to a tube that dispensed oxygen. That was great except for the fact that the tube is rather short and the bag was in the cart basket. I would park my cart in order to peruse items in an aisle only to be pulled up short by the tube like a dog on a leash. Now that was embarrassing!
Of course the bag boy offered to take my groceries to my car - they always do - and I always refuse. I did on Sunday, too. I had no trouble pushing the cart back to my car and putting the groceries in the trunk. I did, however, have trouble bringing the groceries into my kitchen. It was hot and by the time I got them all in, I was quite breathless. And still using the oxygen. But I settled down quickly and felt time. My recovery time is short and I know that is in my favor. Still, I intend to go shopping more often and buy less at any given time. That way it won't be so hard on me. Meanwhile, I continue to work towards increasing my oxygen level without supplemental help.
Did people stare at me in the store? Probably. I caught a few glimpses out of the corner of my eye, but would not say in a court of law that they were looking at me. In short, it was OK. Sometimes you've just got to do what you've got to do. And I did.
My brother called me yesterday. He didn't know I was "on the tank," so to speak, so I told him that and also relayed my grocery store adventure. He didn't like that I struggled to get the groceries in the house and told me to let him know anytime I need help with anything. He said he would meet me at my house and take the groceries in for me and I better let him know when I went shopping! This is from a man who just underwent heart valve replacement surgery. What a guy. He doesn't talk much, but he loves me and since we were children, he has always been my Big Brother Protector. I love him very much.
Well, that's the denouement of my embarrassment story. I did OK, but I'm still determined to not have to rely on those tanks for air. It is my intention to increase my oxygen level on my own.
Got to run. It's morning and I have things I do in the morning. Lots and lots of things!
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Brave talk
My last entry was about embarrassment. I bravely insinuated that I would go to the grocery, etc., and charge on, so to speak.
I didn't.
I tried.
I didn't.
Yesterday evening I desperately wanted something sweet to eat. I intended to go to the grocery as I needed other things as well. I intended to do a regular shopping, portable oxygen tank and all. I couldn't do it. I went to the drive-thru donut store, then to a drug store where I bought some "staples," - paper towels, soap, more snack food. About $35 worth of stuff.
Today I am out of dog food and my dog is hungry. There was enough for a morning meal, but there is none for her dinner. I have to go out. I have to go to the great big gigantic grocery store. And I have to go with my oxygen bag.
It's heavy.
I have to go.
The cannula and long extended double hose-pipe-like tubing showing on my face, down my chest, to the bag, slung over my shoulder, pulling down the top of my shirt because....
it's heavy.
I have to go and now it is storming. It's 4:45 p.m. I had set a goal to leave at 5:00 p.m. I put on makeup this morning. The oxygen seemed like too much ugly. If I go, it will be because I am indeed very brave or because I really love my dog or both.
It's getting closer to 5:00 p.m. Maybe I will go at 6:00 p.m. Who goes to the grocery at 6:00 p.m. on a Sunday night? Who will there be to see me? Why do I care? I don't know anyone who shops there. Strangers staring. Pity? Judgement? I feel shamed. I smoked cigarettes and look at me now. Parents whispering to their children, "Don't smoke. Do you want to wind up like her?" My heart is pounding.
It's 4:50 p.m. Now my hands are shaking.
Brave talk. All talk. Where is the action?
I didn't.
I tried.
I didn't.
Yesterday evening I desperately wanted something sweet to eat. I intended to go to the grocery as I needed other things as well. I intended to do a regular shopping, portable oxygen tank and all. I couldn't do it. I went to the drive-thru donut store, then to a drug store where I bought some "staples," - paper towels, soap, more snack food. About $35 worth of stuff.
Today I am out of dog food and my dog is hungry. There was enough for a morning meal, but there is none for her dinner. I have to go out. I have to go to the great big gigantic grocery store. And I have to go with my oxygen bag.
It's heavy.
I have to go.
The cannula and long extended double hose-pipe-like tubing showing on my face, down my chest, to the bag, slung over my shoulder, pulling down the top of my shirt because....
it's heavy.
I have to go and now it is storming. It's 4:45 p.m. I had set a goal to leave at 5:00 p.m. I put on makeup this morning. The oxygen seemed like too much ugly. If I go, it will be because I am indeed very brave or because I really love my dog or both.
It's getting closer to 5:00 p.m. Maybe I will go at 6:00 p.m. Who goes to the grocery at 6:00 p.m. on a Sunday night? Who will there be to see me? Why do I care? I don't know anyone who shops there. Strangers staring. Pity? Judgement? I feel shamed. I smoked cigarettes and look at me now. Parents whispering to their children, "Don't smoke. Do you want to wind up like her?" My heart is pounding.
It's 4:50 p.m. Now my hands are shaking.
Brave talk. All talk. Where is the action?
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Embarrassment
Yesterday I was fortunate enough to be invited to attend a book signing event with my daughter and granddaughter. It was for a children's book, but my granddaughter didn't seem very enthusiastic. In fact, she was angry with me at times and shy around the crowd of people. It took me a while to find out why.
My granddaughter has been losing her baby teeth in rapid succession. When I first saw her yesterday, she had lost two more since the last time I saw her and another one was loose. I said something to the effect of, "Wow! You're going to have to start eating mashed potatoes!" I was excited that she was showing such signs of growing up and imagined she'd be pleased. I wanted to see a big gaped-toothed grin! But I didn't.
Inside the bookstore, there was a book about the character we were going to see - Junie B. Jones. The book was about Junie B. losing her baby teeth. The picture on the cover showed a big grin with gaps similar to my granddaughter's. I picked up the book and wanted to buy it for her. She grabbed it out of my hand and put it back. "Look!" I said. "Junie B. has lost her teeth just like you have! Don't you want the book?" I think she hit me again. I said, "What's the matter, Sweetheart?" Her whispered reply? "I'm embarrassed."
How unthinking can a grandmother be? I told her I was sorry I had embarrassed her and I certainly didn't mean to. It never dawned on me that she would be embarrassed by her smile. But it's part of life. I was probably embarrassed when I lost my baby teeth. I know I was embarrassed when my adult teeth grew in because they were huge and protruded until I was old enough to wear braces. And that was another embarrassment. Prior to that, I had to wear glasses. Being called four-eyes was, yet again, embarrassing.
How many times I've been embarrassed in my life by something that seemed wrong about my looks or something I'd said or done, I don't know. How many times I may have tripped or actually fallen down. How many times I've said something completely inappropriate or laughed at a sad event. All my life, it seems. All of everyones', I suppose. But here is the newest I must face. I went to my pulmonary doctor's today to get some more information about my condition and what I should and shouldn't do regarding exercise. I wound up walking out of the office with a prescription for portable oxygen for things like grocery shopping.
Grocery shopping! She's got to be kidding! I have to go to the grocery store now with a cannula shoved up my nose while carrying a container of oxygen????? Well, yes. Yes, I do. And when I walk the dog and when I get the mail and when I go to book signings with my granddaughter. But if I feel embarrassed, I hope I will remember that little girl's plight of having so many of her baby teeth fall out at once. And I hope I can teach her something about embarrassment by not being embarrassed myself.
I don't have the portable canister yet. I had planned to grocery shop on my way back from the doctor's but didn't because I thought I needed to get back right away in case the oxygen supply company called. So far they haven't. The waiting is slightly uneasy. I'd just like to get it over with.
But I think once I go out with it, it will be OK. Or maybe it won't. Maybe people will stare. Maybe I will cry. But maybe I will walk stronger and longer. And I will live to see my granddaughter grow into a beautiful woman. Embarrassed about that? I don't think so.
My granddaughter has been losing her baby teeth in rapid succession. When I first saw her yesterday, she had lost two more since the last time I saw her and another one was loose. I said something to the effect of, "Wow! You're going to have to start eating mashed potatoes!" I was excited that she was showing such signs of growing up and imagined she'd be pleased. I wanted to see a big gaped-toothed grin! But I didn't.
Inside the bookstore, there was a book about the character we were going to see - Junie B. Jones. The book was about Junie B. losing her baby teeth. The picture on the cover showed a big grin with gaps similar to my granddaughter's. I picked up the book and wanted to buy it for her. She grabbed it out of my hand and put it back. "Look!" I said. "Junie B. has lost her teeth just like you have! Don't you want the book?" I think she hit me again. I said, "What's the matter, Sweetheart?" Her whispered reply? "I'm embarrassed."
How unthinking can a grandmother be? I told her I was sorry I had embarrassed her and I certainly didn't mean to. It never dawned on me that she would be embarrassed by her smile. But it's part of life. I was probably embarrassed when I lost my baby teeth. I know I was embarrassed when my adult teeth grew in because they were huge and protruded until I was old enough to wear braces. And that was another embarrassment. Prior to that, I had to wear glasses. Being called four-eyes was, yet again, embarrassing.
How many times I've been embarrassed in my life by something that seemed wrong about my looks or something I'd said or done, I don't know. How many times I may have tripped or actually fallen down. How many times I've said something completely inappropriate or laughed at a sad event. All my life, it seems. All of everyones', I suppose. But here is the newest I must face. I went to my pulmonary doctor's today to get some more information about my condition and what I should and shouldn't do regarding exercise. I wound up walking out of the office with a prescription for portable oxygen for things like grocery shopping.
Grocery shopping! She's got to be kidding! I have to go to the grocery store now with a cannula shoved up my nose while carrying a container of oxygen????? Well, yes. Yes, I do. And when I walk the dog and when I get the mail and when I go to book signings with my granddaughter. But if I feel embarrassed, I hope I will remember that little girl's plight of having so many of her baby teeth fall out at once. And I hope I can teach her something about embarrassment by not being embarrassed myself.
I don't have the portable canister yet. I had planned to grocery shop on my way back from the doctor's but didn't because I thought I needed to get back right away in case the oxygen supply company called. So far they haven't. The waiting is slightly uneasy. I'd just like to get it over with.
But I think once I go out with it, it will be OK. Or maybe it won't. Maybe people will stare. Maybe I will cry. But maybe I will walk stronger and longer. And I will live to see my granddaughter grow into a beautiful woman. Embarrassed about that? I don't think so.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Figuring myself out
I have been doing a lot lately to heal myself. I have bought CDs of healing music, a DVD of a Qigong Master, rereading A Course In Miracles. I do Dr. Weil's breathing exercises everyday. I walk every day - I am up to three minutes. Doesn't sound like much, but I keep reminding myself that "a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." Lots and lots of work. I realize it would have been prudent to do it sooner, to never have smoked, blah, blah, but I came to a bigger realization yesterday. It is a very simple thing yet when I "discovered" it, it made perfect sense. It has to do with energy. Mine, specifically. I have low energy. I put out low energy. I am low energy. So low as to attempt invisibility in many areas of my life, particularly in childhood. And yet I am not, and never have been, invisible. I am quite visible to myself at night when I have that cannula in my nose. Still, I believe my visibility has been pale. I believe I have lived, up until now, a pale life. Just barely there. Sometimes skirting the edges of the world with enough force to make an impact, but mostly, just there. Barely.
Recourse: change the energy. Intensify it. Walk with shoulders back. Speak not loudly, but with strength. Believe I am here because I am here.
It is all on the inside. It simply manifests on the outside. In shyness, in anxiety, in depression, in illness. I can change it. At this moment in time, I'm not exactly sure how I can change it, but I know I can. When I figure that part out, I will write about it. For now, I am concentrating on my energy. My inside energy. My life force. The part of my soul that is inhabiting this body - for I feel souls are huge and are involved in more than one activity at a time. This would not diminish the work it can do in this body, with my help. It simply is there, quietly watching. Perhaps waiting or wanting to help. I don't know. But I want to. I want to know as much as I possibly can while in this lifetime. I want to discover things about the nature of who I really am and what this human life is really all about. A Course In Miracles teaches some of that but, as it even says, it is only "A" course, not "The" course. So there must be many, many others of many different kinds. Which course, besides the one I've chosen to "take" on Miracles, am I enrolled in with this energy study? Something big, I am thinking. Something really big.
I don't know where to start. Back to the journey of a thousand miles. This is my first, single step.
Recourse: change the energy. Intensify it. Walk with shoulders back. Speak not loudly, but with strength. Believe I am here because I am here.
It is all on the inside. It simply manifests on the outside. In shyness, in anxiety, in depression, in illness. I can change it. At this moment in time, I'm not exactly sure how I can change it, but I know I can. When I figure that part out, I will write about it. For now, I am concentrating on my energy. My inside energy. My life force. The part of my soul that is inhabiting this body - for I feel souls are huge and are involved in more than one activity at a time. This would not diminish the work it can do in this body, with my help. It simply is there, quietly watching. Perhaps waiting or wanting to help. I don't know. But I want to. I want to know as much as I possibly can while in this lifetime. I want to discover things about the nature of who I really am and what this human life is really all about. A Course In Miracles teaches some of that but, as it even says, it is only "A" course, not "The" course. So there must be many, many others of many different kinds. Which course, besides the one I've chosen to "take" on Miracles, am I enrolled in with this energy study? Something big, I am thinking. Something really big.
I don't know where to start. Back to the journey of a thousand miles. This is my first, single step.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
+cropped.jpg)