Today I awoke from a groggy sleep, not wanting to do anything. I’d describe my circumstance as though I was trying to think through molasses or work through a fog. Brain fog set in as I used feeling sick to disenfranchise me from my situation. Sickness became something I allowed myself to be weak through.
I stopped. Sometimes I feel like I can will myself into not being sick, but I realize now that that is me refusing to deal with my bullshit. I managed to get a value prop to someone I’ve been a fan of for a long time, host 2 meetings, read more to The War of Art, edit a blog and get this blog out. It’s not everything I wanted to do, but it resisted falling into a zero-day.
My grandmother used to always scorn laziness by saying “you can rest in the grave!” In some ways, I looked at my symptoms and decided I wouldn’t even look at them. I refused to acknowledge them. I thought of Atlas Shrugged, and Ayn Rand, and how Hank Rearden in the mines “refused to acknowledge his pain as a sufficient reason to quit”.
Low and behold, I felt a lot less sick. I shifted where my consciousness lay, from the headwinds in front of me to the tailwinds behind me. I chose a form of awareness that was not going to disempower me, but empower me, and low and behold I felt a lot more alive.
You can choose the battle you fight, you can choose what to focus on. You are allowed to find the best interpretation of your reality, and run with it, but you cannot choose a false reality. Choose the best world for your consciousness to reside in, and your best consciousness from which to act upon the world.
Until next time,