Shifting, Snapping, Breaking Through
Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree Below.
Sometime during the night, something…snapped. I’d almost say that something broke, but it felt more like something broke through. Something lifted, something connected to my full moon work this month.
I don’t know if it was blockages I’d been dealing with or something in my destiny that someone else had strug-led against and won, but it was palpable.
I was aware of it the instant I awoke, which was more
than an hour earlier than usual and with only about 5 hours of sleep, but it was good sleep last night. For the past two nights, many of my online friends—people I’ve never met in person—have been showing up in my dreams, offering support. It’s very much appreciated!
Then I woke and the bed felt wonderful and I wasn’t zonked from lack of sleep and I stretched like a cat and just reveled in the sense of lightness around me. Throughout the day, in spite of numerous cranky-making issues, I retained my lightness. None of the heaviness or doubt of the past few days. Everything that had been plaguing me lifted at once. As if something had snapped.
I’d talked to Shannon about the sudden barrage of doubts and unfounded gloomy thoughts on a quick walk last night and she noted several a-ha moments of her own, all things she’d learned that day in her college psychology class, which she loves and devours.
She understood about all the wild dreams (she and her sister have had them too or been zonked this week as well). She explained sleep cycles to me, mostly things I’ve heard before from doctors, but she diagnosed my zonkness this week with the lack of deep sleep. The constant weird-ass dreams kept me from getting any real rest.
Her second point related to hypnosis, another thing she’s been learning about in class, and how the mind’s “hidden observer” is constant regardless of any influences that are overlaid. We talked about what it is I know without a doubt, what is constant for me, and what influences make me temporarily doubtful of everything around me.
Today, the heaviness was gone, and I felt more like the me I’ve been for the past few months, with the sense of contentment and purpose in spite of the occasional work pressure, family stress, or aggravation.
That was a good place to be, mentally, when I met with my mentor tonight. I had lots of progress to report and we worked on the specifics for several “streams of income” in the future, including how to produce a series of courses, some potential consulting work, and how to relate all these aspects into what will become my next career, as well as how to free up 2 weekdays a month to begin meeting with clients. The best part of all, though, was having a plan and talking through it.
I love planning. I absolutely do. I will never again listen to anyone who tells me not to plan, just to let the Gods put me where They will. I agree that I needed to wander for a while and figure out all the things I really do like and to recover the part of me I’d lost, but I’m more in tune now with what I love and who I am.
I’m going back to something in my “past” life that always worked well for me, now that I’ve had such a major life course direction change. I’m going back to having a plan. It doesn’t mean I have to know every little side road and the time I’ll intersect each. But I know where I’m going and some ways of getting there and ways to make things happen that I’m led to do. I’m an incredibly productive person but I need a plan—not necessarily as gospel, but as a guide. That feels really good. It feels purposeful.
I think I can come in now from my 40 years of wandering in the desert.