Been experiencing some powerful recollections of late. Some super inspiring and life affirming. Others thoughts are quite darker and harder to shake off.
My Father’s birthday was a few days ago. His birth and death days have always been powerful emotional triggers. I lost him when I was quite young. Bucketloads of tears lost, some years not as painful as others thankfully.
Dad in his youth plus a family picture.
I recognize it is better to have a few true happy memories than experience a crapload of comfortable mistruths. Sheesh, true dat – but hard to truly internalize, particularly when you are young.
Two nights ago I had an extremely vivid dream about Dad. I rarely recall dreams of him. He does not manifest a physical form, I just know it is him. This night he gave me stern comments about factors in my life that I need to address. I agreed he was right and that I would try my best to listen. I don’t care to elaborate our discussion. That’s between Father and Daughter.
The following morning I took my dogs on a walk in the sandy desert. The Sandia mountain range was particularly beautiful. Almost magical.
We encountered a car and I took the dogs up an embankment. As we descended the Minions (dogs) zigged when I zagged. I lost my balance and slam hit my sacrum. It hurt. After determining that I could feel my legs we turned back home. It was unpleasant. I knew that my body was in shock and that things were probably going to hurt a hell of a lot more shortly. I was right.
I’m convinced that on this auspicious day, Karma decided to spank me. Hard. Sent me to my room for plenty of time to reflect on his words.
Problem is that I am still paying for the spank. I couldn’t work yesterday. I was given some freedom to be in the house. Karma sent me to my yoga room for more reflection.
I feel much better today but still in Karmic dog house. Much better but far from 100%. Walking is not horrible now. Picking up light items from the floor still makes me grimace. Thrashing on whether I can return to work today. I did a test of getting into/out of car and it fucking hurt. Manual therapy is physical work. I know it would be best to take another day off from manual therapy. I don’t want to let my co-workers down but I risk hurting myself further.
Perhaps the meditation that I’m about to embark on will direct me on what it is that I must do. I am tired of fighting Universal Flow. I want to listen to you Dad. Please help me get out of Karmic DogHouse.