Two o’clock in the morning. Up doing yoga in an attempt to open up my screaming lower back and hips. What is it about being at Daddy’s that makes sleep so elusive? Can the new bed really be this uncomfortable? Is it how hot he keeps the house? Is it that I am hypervigilant—listening out for Daddy? Tossing and turning, not sleeping, makes me a little crazy. So tired. How I wish I were in my own bed right now!
I am so grateful to be with Daddy during his illness but it also wears on me. It wears on me because I have not yet learned how to fully let go and relax into the moment. I have not learned to completely let be what is, so I tense up and worry.
I must take better care of myself. I’ve been negligent with my yoga in recent weeks, lazy with my meditation, and I’m not eating well these last couple of weeks. All this adds up to not feeling as well. I know this. Why so stubborn, Carla? Why so resistant to doing the things I know will help? I am curious.
I think I need a good cry. I don’t know what keeps me from it. I suppose it’s my age-old coping pattern of attempting to hold things together. I could cry and still function. I could cry and still be available to Daddy. I could cry and still be strong. Right now, all I want is to sleep.
Tolle and many others might say that I am increasing my suffering by not fully accepting this present moment. I am awake. My back and hips hurt. That’s the present moment. By struggling against these conditions, I only tense up, making sleep less likely, becoming more agitated. I have not yet learned how to sit through this—that, too, can be accepted. Adding judgment will only increase my agitation. So, I won’t.
It feels good to put it down on paper, to externalize some of it—getting it out of my head and body. I’m relaxing a little. Maybe sleep is nearer than I think. One thing is certain—this too shall pass.
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