I managed to get out of bed early today as I had been promising myself since last week, so I was able to check all of the items in my To Do list, except perhaps those that have to do with writing. It turns out today is one of those days when there aren't any writing jobs available, so I suddenly find myself with pockets of free time, in between updating things, reading, and refreshing the writing pages for anything that might turn up.
So I get to have a leisurely cup of tea in the afternoon, allowing the sun to wash away all the clouds over my head. I've had too many Wings in my head too I guess, so I tried to quiet my soul down by allowing some Gregorian chants to fill my background for most of the afternoon.
I realize I have been out of sorts lately. It's like I need to find a Constant, but right now it feels like there isn't any.
I've been diligent with my Morning Pages though, and maybe this is part of the effect the Pages speak of. When things suddenly change so quickly you get whirled and you get dizzy and sometimes it seems you are just right where you always used to be but in fact things have changed even faster you kind of lose track it's the nth time you seem to be in the same place but you really aren't. I am not sure which effect I am experiencing actually, but there have been changes which I cannot quite put my finger into, still. I guess it is the combination of the supposed effect of diligently writing the Morning Pages, and What I Put Into It, or more specifically, What I've been putting into it lately. I dare not read them anytime too soon, because it will be like opening a mental can of worms. And knowing me, I don't want to get me started.
It is late in the afternoon and I am somewhat more agitated, because I notice I kind of become anxious towards the early evenings, way into the wee hours. This is perhaps why I've been preferring mornings during the past week. Things DO look better and feel lighter in the mornings. No matter how empty things might seem sometimes, if it's morning, there seems to be a greater chance of the emptiness being filled in, but if the feeling carries on until it grows dark, even I sometimes feel hollow, which I guess kind of gives way to the anxiety. I don't know if it's just the tides or a phase or the inability to fly, but I have been quite more highly aware of the What that I feel and every minute detail around me, but the Whys are very elusive.
In any case, since I cannot tell, right, I guess the only thing I can do about it now, is meet everything with perfect trust. Trust that all is well, and that all shall be well. I may not even have the vaguest idea how things will turn out, but I believe all shall be well as it is, and perhaps this is all part of the journey I need to take, albeit a tricky part.