After my mum died, since my entire world shifted in the instant between breath and no-breath, I decided it would be a good time to Create New Patterns. Go me! Well, not so go me when what I attempted was a total change all at once. Yes. I know.
Except in this case I didn't know, or didn't know better. Or something. I suppose on some level my mum's death was so transformative I found comfort in the idea of total transformation. Head to toe, front to back, inside to outside and vice-versa, left to right and right to wrong. ~sigh~ Yes, I know.
I'm not certain if the patterns I've been trying to create are useful or effective because too much too soon muddies things terribly. And I didn't only do this in my spiritual life. Oh no. I was full steam in all mundane things, also.
I took a week off of work. I was organized in my head! I had plans! I knew how how much I could accomplish at my and my mum's houses if I bent my shoulder and charged ahead! I painted the other 3 walls in my future altar room! I bought my supplies for the image I want on the one wall! I had a late start because my grandson was sick and so I had to back up for lost time, but I had a handle on it, yes! I! Did! Yes I know.
I paused. I could feel myself breaking, my patterns breaking, my will breaking, my desire to even put forth any effort breaking. And, it was a good thing. I listened to my spirit instead of my head. I heard my still voice climbing up through my grief voice. So I stopped. No more packing, sorting, painting, thinking. I have had no time off where I wasn't caretaking my mum or planning her funeral, or grieving. Hell, the funeral was the last time I took off of work. So this past week, I took off from most everything.
It was freeing and relaxing and renewing in a manner I'd not felt in a very long time. Some patterns I will keep - healtheir eating some of the time, better sleeping most of the time, and I will create more new patterns. Here and there, a bit at a time - one word becomes a sentence is a paragraph to a chapter in a book of one year of my life. Slowing down leads to picking up speed, ironically. YesIknow.