Laying a solid foundation

"Time and balance, the two most difficult things to have control over, yet they are both the things that we do control" — Catherine Pulsifer

Today's post is not going to be as bleak as the previous ones, I promise. Maybe a little. I actually don't know yet. One thing's for sure, I'm in a better mood right now, so this one will probably be more on the beautiful side of the spectrum, not so much on the wrecked one. As you might know already if you've read some of my writings, I struggle very hard to find balance, and I'm not sure I ever will. To me, humans are pretty much little bottles of contradictions, containing the whole universe inside us. It's completely up to us what we decide to pour out into the world.

As I wrote that, I was confronted once again with the fact that there are things, events, in my life that I did not choose but had to endure, and they affected me immensely. What I've decided to pour out into the world hasn't always been nice. Sometimes I think I'm doing this to myself, perpetuating the suffering, and that it's my responsibility to pull me out of it for good. If only it was that easy. There are things I can do to make it all better but to a certain extent. Still, I try my hardest, every day. One of the thoughts that have been plaguing me is that maybe I need medication, but that's something I guess I'll discover further along the way. I'm firm on the idea of exploring more natural options, and I believe in my strength.

Anyway, today I woke up close to the farthest extreme of the spectrum, far away from the productive end, yet here I am. I made it happen. Knowing myself as I do, there's a vast list of resources I can turn to when I need it. Today, I chose music, one of the best aces I have up my sleeve. This Thursday was a Radiohead kind of day, so I blasted no alarms and no surprises. While having breakfast, I watched the music video I'll link down below, and was amazed at how some songs can speak exactly what's in our hearts and minds, just as if we had written them. It's a phenomenon universal enough to be repeated among more than one individual of the human race, and that's something to marvel at.

My heart, full up like a landfill, like la rosa de Magritte, trapped inside this body, too big for this world. Jobs that slowly kill us. My bruises that won't heal. The lyrics of this song get me every time. He says, you look so tired, unhappy and I say yes, you're right, but I don't want to. He says, they don't speak for us, and I say, no, they don't, we should speak for ourselves. I'd indeed take a quiet life, a handshake of carbon monoxide, but I'd rather breathe. The screen fills with water, and I always hold my breath as he does. Every time. And then, when I can inhale again, I feel slightly better. No alarms and no surprises.

That reminds me, yesterday I received confirmation that what knocked me down last week was indeed the thing that has been traveling all around the world. Maybe the shortness of breath that I have been experiencing for days and that has had me pretty desperate to get some air is more physical than emotional. That would be something. I'm so used to having these episodes of not being able to fill my lungs that I just assumed it was another one of those. You know, I really don't want to go, even when sometimes I just can't do this anymore. So I'll take care of myself, go to the doctor, do my part.