I Can't Pray for That

 I recently heard an interview that resonated with me with Joe Dispenza on Diary of a CEO podcast. Since my recovery journey began Dec 16, 2019 and re-energized in 2023, I've focused on positive thinking instead of negative thinking. Daily gratitude. Recognizing and redirecting dark thoughts. Using my mind to help the situation instead of making it worse. 

I've enjoyed some success. Most of the time, I'm enjoying the moments. Part of it is because I punish bad thinking with exercise. Quite effective. 

I bought Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself because that's exactly what I've been trying to do for five years. The first chapter is about quantum physics. Random number theory: I just read In My Time of Dying by Sebastian Junger where he talks about quantum physics as a possible explanation for seeing his dead father while he was near death himself. 

So far, the chapter for me has more in common with the New Testament than science. Renewing the mind. The power of prayer. Transformation on a subatomic level. Substitutionary restitution (I'm getting that wrong, but menopause brain won't give me the correct phrase). 

One sentence: How many times have you tried to create something, thinking in your mind the end result was possible but feeling in your heart it wasn't? 

That's my prayer life for a while now. I know all things are possible, but I feel that some things are not good, even if they seem good in the short term. Maybe this is spiritual maturity. Maybe it's cowardice. Maybe it's lack of faith. 

I no longer know what is good and what isn't result-wise. That - I think - is wisdom. I know when I want to complain, I should not complain because I don't know what's coming. 

Dispenza may be full of it (some online detractors certainly think so) but he's making a lot of sense in chapter one. We'll see how it goes. 

Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who mercifully restores my soul within me. Great is Your faithfulness. 

A Moment In Time

 I planned on writing a number of things, and I may still, but I paused and read some of the things I wrote 9 months ago. That was good. I'm trying to stay away from good and bad as descriptors. I ascribe too much meaning to them. I'm no longer entirely convinced life has any meaning at all except what I give it. 

2024 has been an up and down year. 

On the up side, I've stopped wishing for death every day. Many days I haven't thought about dying at all. I no longer think of Dad every day. When I start to think dark thoughts, I exercise. In fact, I've learned some kind of exercise - walking, weight-lifting, jumping up and down 40 times in a row - may not help in the moment, but absolutely helps my mood the next day. 

I've learned about perimenopause and menopause, and that the vast majority of my physical and mental issues in the last 10 years can be directly tied to that time of chaos, including depression, anxiety, vertigo, heart palpitations, joint pain, brain fog, and bipolar mimicry. Frozen shoulder was the final tip-off, followed quickly by night sweats that disturb my sleep every 1 out of 5 nights. Thanks to Dr. Peter Attia, Dr. Mary Claire Haver and the Menoposse, to name a few, I'm more intent than ever on improving my physical fitness and nutrition. There is a real chance I will also begin HRT, since most of what we "know" about that topic is bogus. 

On the down side, I am unable to find a social outlet. I've given up on church. The art class was a bust. I have one active friend who no longer lives near me. I am increasingly on the outs with my family. And even my newest cats, Clover and Blackberry, who lived together in peace for 6 years until they moved in with me, have now tried to kill each other for the last 9 months. My open house is divided into two portions with a demilitarized zone and seems likely to remain that way for the next 12 years or so. 

This cat failure, as always, will be my ultimate undoing. It is the final proof that I have no appreciable skills and no authority to speak on any topic ever again except my own fallibility. 

This is for the best. I have no one to talk to anyway. Skamper is finally really dying of cancer and Skuttle's dementia is progressing nicely. 

None of these things matter. This is a moment in time, and change is constant. I can't make cats get along. I can't make humans like me. I can't make my body stop attacking me. I can't make a loaf of simple sourdough bread. I can't even waste my days in bed because I can't sleep and lying down hurts my back. 

This has been a down week. At some point, it will shift back into up. Until then, I will focus on gratitude and exercise. 

Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who mercifully restores my soul within me. Great is Your faithfulness.