I am uncomfortable.

There is a disconnect between my mind and my soul. In short, my soul is always right. And my mind just complicates things.

I’ve been struggling a lot lately with being afraid to consume. Like all I “should” be doing is creating, creating, producing, creating. I wake up in the morning, early-early, 4:00-4:30 early. And my brain’s telling me to get to work right away.

There are dishes from last night, Rachel. And over 100 unread emails in your personal email. And there’s shit that’s not happening for months from now, but you’ve got some free time and mindspace so you should fill it up with thoughts and worry about what might happen. Go down to your office and start working.

And all I really want to do is put my teapot on, lay on the floor and stretch my body while I wait for the water to boil and watch old episodes of Project Runway. Enjoy my first cup of dark roast French press without any of the obligatory distractions. I want the distractions that I crave but religiously deny myself – I’m having a hard time getting myself to give me what I want. My mind is overriding my soul with the demand for productivity. As if I don’t deserve to be still and take some things in, like silence or a TV show or a book. Instead, the guilt creeps in, especially if I’m scrolling Bumble at any time other than when I’m pooping – my brain tells me it’s OK to do it then because you’re stuck on the toilet anyway, might as well multitask. But you’re not allowed to intentionally shop and genuinely consider what you’d like in a partner and what you wouldn’t at any other time of day, because that is not the most productive use of your time. That’s just dreaming, and not really doing.

Like, what the fuck, brain? Why are you such a Nazi cunt?!

So I let that little tickle of anxiety start to grow inside my belly. And I breathe through it as I force myself to slow down and begin to eat the scrumptious calories of pure pleasure entertainment. And why do I feel a teeny bit better about reading a book than I do about watching a movie, but still carry some level of contrition when I do either? I don’t fucking know. Maybe because I have to work a little harder to read, and that makes it a little bit more acceptable? So dumb, so dumb.  

And then I remember that last reiki session I had when Brooke told me to embrace the darkness. And what the fuck did that mean, anyway? Maybe she was telling me to slow down, be quiet. Give yourself what you want. Embrace the winter, i.e. use the time to be home, to stay home, to enjoy your home. Quiet your mind and feed your soul. Consume. There’s no elimination without ingestion. You’ve gotta eat & drink so there’s something to release. It makes sense. How could I possibly release if I haven’t taken anything in in the first place? But even more, why do I feel bad for taking things in? Social conditioning. Always the server and never the taker. Because taking is selfish.

But that’s just your mind talking. Your soul knows better.

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