I just enjoyed dancing a merengue all by myself, risking that someone in the house may intrude and judge me as being a little crazy. The merengue is a Latin dance, which originated in The Dominican Republic. Percussion dominates the quick, repetitive and energising tempo and the singer is often proclaiming his or her celebration of love, a happy life and sometimes of music itself. For me music and dance, are medicine and I need some healing today. Alone I swayed until my malady shrunk... a little.
It was a glorious morning, typical of this time of year - bright sun, the air was still, the view surreal and as usual my first greeting was directed at the mountains, which stand tall and proud allowing nothing to move or upset them. I envied their strength and neutrality.
Her stubby tail shook like a windshield wiper gone wild to demonstrate her glee. Daisy was glad for the day and anticipated the treats which she has trained me to provide each morning, for no reason at all, except that she is Daisy. I wish I could love everyone like that, for no reason, just because they are.
Like Daisy, my morning routines are usually filled with joy, with anticipation and openness to whatever surprises may show up. But not this morning. I drank my coffee without relish. Ordinarily, I practically do a happy dance as I taste the first swig of my favorite elixir. But it held no magic fix. It left me flat.
For some incomprehensible reason, my mood was low, my bubble of positivity was burst. Nothing in particular deflated it, but the energy that kindles joy eluded me today and I found myself persistently looking for ways to spark my Spirit.
Luckily, I know the truth. I am not my mood. It's just a passing mist being sprayed into this dream of mine which I'm told is an illusion, yet, seems so real. I sigh as I dismiss my feeble attempts at philosophizing. Dream or not, I'd like to feel better.
So, I try to process what's wrong, but nothing surfaces. I meditate and quiet my thoughts. Strangely, I am more able to observe them today as they meander by, thinking they're important. I dismiss them easily, but the mood persists.
It's like a fog that filtered into my psyche while I was sleeping. Maybe it's all symbolic of what is actually dark and sinister, and lurking in my soul. Its dark night. How can that be? I've worked so hard at guiding my Spirit upward, high, to let in the Light. But, so much in life is inexplicable, mysterious and obscure that I must simply accept it. It is.
I'm aware that the strong mood is trying to identify with me, to convince me that we are indistinguishable, the same. I don't really have the energy to confront the question - "If I'm not my mood, who am I?" I'll just allow the question to dangle in silence. The response is out there and within me, but it's best enveloped in the void, for now.
The illusion of I that I am wants to feel better. But, I am resigned. Sometimes, it's best to just let it be, to just be and not fight so hard. Maybe the mood mist is intended to wake me up, to let me feel a deeper truth, to get me to be still. Instead, I danced.
I sigh again as I sense a familiar little flicker. A flash of energy just sparkled. I recognize this process. It's the beginning of the end. All fog lifts eventually, and mine is initiating a launch.
I am feeling better. I think I'll go dance again. Although music claims to soothe the soul, it ignites my Spirit. I am grateful for this remedy. Writing was medicinal too. Thank you for joining me. May we all find our remedies and antidotes and take our medicine well. May we seek out our own healing and direct our voyage back to our true selves.