Life makes a lot of demands on all of us. When life got very demanding for me, my response was usually to gather up all the energy I could manage and charge right through it. Looking back, I don't think that technique ever worked as well as I had hoped, and it's resulted in a few breakdowns along the way, but I could kind of get by doing it. I'd always seen myself as a bit of a wimp, but I kind of got by.
That is no longer true. My illness has diminished my energy reserves considerably. I'm not completely incapacitated, but there is no "charging through" anymore. I have often lamented that I can no longer live with the intensity I used to.
I began to form an image of myself as a being desperate for energy. I pictured myself clawing at the walls of my life, hoping the friction would create the tiniest spark I could use. I pictured myself nursing tiny flames of life-force that could be blown away at any moment, leaving me barely able to get out of bed for days at a time.
Recently I viewed a broadcast of an opera with a friend of mine. There I realized that for me, fire is a poor metaphor for my power, and I suspect it always has been; perhaps that is why I have never seen myself as powerful. I drew inspiration from the singers, whose power came from moving air through their bodies, and I have adjusted my outlook accordingly. When life is demanding, I imagine myself becoming lighter, until lifting a hand to a task seems less daunting. When I start to get tired, I focus on keeping myself coasting until I can rest. And when I rest, I truly rest; I try very hard to let my preoccupations float away for a moment.
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