Yes, it's true. During the most mundane of tasks I suddenly am overwhelmed with this wave of happiness. Walking the dogs and I notice the shape of a tree - joy, feeding the cats and seeing Natalia's wide green eyes and happy upright tail and I smile, making the bed and I recall with what relief I sank into it the night before - bliss. This contentment is not the matter of a moment or a day, it bursts forth frequently and has done for the past month. I think much of it has to do with quitting cigarettes, that I have aligned myself more with my Self so do not feel so alienated and discombobulated.
Then when I think life can't get any better than this I am reminded of its fragility. A couple of nights ago when I lay my head on the pillow the room swam. Isn't that the term? It spun and sang and quivered and I shot bolt upright until it stopped. Lay down again, much more slowly and went to sleep. Woke up in the night to go to the loo, sat up and clung to handfuls of sheets until the world stopped spinning. The next morning, not good. Spinning out if I did anything other than hold my head straight with eyes front. Wrote an email and had to type it without looking at the monitor. When you see a computer monitor on television it flickers, something we don't notice when we're sitting in front of it. That part of me that was experimenting with barrel rolls and loop de loops noticed however. I didn't do yoga for two days for other reasons so didn't have to test the theory that I would be unable to swan dive into a sun salutation or heft myself into a headstand. I was scared enough as it was.
In case you didn't know, I am a coward. The idea of doctors, needles, oh my god drawing blood, fills me with Fear in bold underlined italics. The image of being punctured...makes me dizzy thinking of it. That and small spaces and things around my neck which leads me to believe that in a previous life I was hung in a closet while being stabbed with a stiletto. Anyway, so here I am scared witless because I am having dizzy spells. Don't even tell Richard because I know what he'll do - nag me to go see a doctor. Don't tell anyone but then I have a little 'turn' at a friend's house so I tell them. With what relief do I hear these wise people say, among other things, that perhaps it's a virus. Of course! A virus! I can live with that. I'm not going to die a horrible death after all (amazing how the mind works and what morbid scenarios one creates for oneself). I"m just sick.
So here it is a few days later. I still spin out if I look up at my hand during Half Moon pose or try a backbend but other than that I'm good. I lay down with caution and get up with same but not with excruciating slowness like a few days ago. But as a token to my moment of fear I am wearing my mother's deep blue sapphire ring. I've never worn it before because it was the 'good' ring, it's fragile and what if it was damaged? Well, if it was, who cares but me and what am I waiting for anyway. If there was something terribly wrong with me and I died without wearing Mom's ring or using the good perfume or any of a number of other things that are put off waiting for that perfect day when one deserves that special treat it would be a waste. And a bit of an insult too. Here we are gifted with this miracle called Being Alive and we hold back, weigh up our options, assess, scrutinize and, perhaps worst of all, Bargain. Instead Life is to be embraced and regarded with Inexplicable Joy mixed with the Vertiginous Miracle of Being.
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