Welcome to my Parlour ...

Parlour -
A reception room in a private residence.

In this case, the private residence would be the recesses of my mind ...
which can be, at once, a wondrous and a terrifying place to be.
A place of confusion and fear, doubt and despair as I daily tackle the mental health challenges which are my birthright and curse.
But also a place of glorious imagination and profound Faith borne from the wellspring of my lifelong spiritual quest for understanding and self-mastery and the power, subtle and real, this Path has granted me.

This Parlour, then, would be that little space where the outside world may meet MY reality.

Truly, there's no telling what one may find posted here.
Ultimately this space is for myself, although others are welcome to stay a while provided they don't mind the spider.

~ Go dtugtar breith orainn dá réir ár ngníomhartha. ~
(Let us, by our actions, be judged)

Monday 8 January 2018

Erasure ...

So, here I am once again with a blank space that I've a mind to try to fill up with ...

What?

That's the question and I really have no good answer. 

I'm only half aware of what exactly prompted me, with the coming of the new year, to delete all of my posts and leave myself this blank slate. On some level, I guess, I'm just unwilling to delete this little space ... even when I have no expectation that anyone might be interested reading whatever makes it up in here. 

I just knew that the old needed to be left behind in favour of the new me that I'm crafting.

A holding pattern is all I seem to have known for years ... but my time of waiting is past. It began with the breast reduction ... as traumatic as that turned out to be, what with the infection and all. It really stuck me hard, once I was actually on the mend and done with the twice daily antibiotic infusions, that I had not credited my situation realistically. I had been of the mental perspective that it was all 'no big deal' instead of the invasive surgery and major infection that followed. 

It wasn't till nine weeks had passed and I found myself healthy but weak as the proverbial kitten that I started taking apart my own thought processes concerning the whole situation and, by extension, my attitude towards myself. 

I have come to the conclusion that I need work ... from the ground up and on all levels.

So I'm beginning with my physical self ... Not being to climb a flight of stairs in my own home without needing to stop for a breather fails to please me in a pretty major way. Knowing that a majority of the weakness is a result of nine weeks flat on my back as antibiotics help me fight of a pretty aggressive infection that could have been avoided if the surgeon had trusted me to know my own body doesn't really help ... while truth, it just frustrates me all the more. 

So ... I'm tackling the Éowyn Challenge ... by which I mean that I'm using their data to associate my daily walking as tracked with my fitbit to the distance covered in the journey taken by Bilbo Baggins in The Hobbit. Just a wee bit of geeky incentive for me to help get myself moving. It'll be interesting at least to see how far I might go.

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