|The Writer's Altar|
Time: Big IdeasWe know where we’re going with our time by knowing where we’ve been.
Twenty-five years are just three-hundred months, or seventy-five annual quarters to divide between the short- and midterm plans.
It may seem like not much time. Or it can be just enough time if I do it right. Or it can be too much time if all I do is squander it. But if I do it right, if I watch the clock and try to adhere to the general flow of the Universe, it can be plenty.
We’re not short on basic sustenance, that’s one thing to be grateful for. We have shelter and clothing and infrastructural support. We’re not under immediate impact of war or disease or famine, and that is a lot, a huge lot to be grateful for. For, it’s the security of our basic sustenance that has allowed us to think creatively and thrive. It’s only by having a reserve of psychic energy that allows us to enter the flow, the closest state of happiness.
If there is anything more paralytic than being an illiterate woman living in a slum, then it would be being an educated affluent woman with too many choices to pick from.
Too much freedom of choice, then, became a burden. The abundance stability and routine gave little incentive to stay put. Having too much psychic reserve made me too easily bored. Getting too easily bored meant that I tend to start projects and drop them again. To come and go as I please.
What’s wonderful/terrible about the reliability of karmic law is its timely effectiveness. Privilege, when it’s not carefully minded, backfires. I broke my heart and bank a lot by mistreating myself and privileges. It’s only natural, and I wouldn’t have learned otherwise.
Likewise, the karmic laws are very generous at giving rewards in the event of good behaviors. This isn't a philosophical as much as it's a direct result of watching the clock. The Universe has this way of SHOWING UP AND FILLING ME UP WITH BLINDING LIGHT when I least expect it and most need it.
It's easier to bring on the Universe's more meaningful presents by sticking to its laws, than not.
So I picked up yoga and meditation to keep me physically grounded. I picked up the idea that staying in this auditory hell of a village can keep my heart from drying up, as long that my master is comfortable. Then I picked up seventy books to read in the last six months. Which led me to writing and blogging again.
Isn’t karmic predictability a nice thing?
I can't emphasize enough how important it is to take things slow. Took me years to understand HOW I'm physically bound to the supremacy of seasons. Took me months of watching my mood swings to understand that, Hey, maybe "bipolar" isn't a mere diagnosis, but a symptom of something meaningful and useful.
At the end of every experiment, one idea kept glaring at me: That I only needed one person to believe in me at a time. One person to keep me afloat. And that person can come in the form of a conversation, a character in a story, a Like on one of the social media applications, or an awesome wordcount in my journals.
This is why I can do this daily writing thing. I am connected and loved and anchored in my society and habits and beliefs. In return, my people and beliefs and practices keep me afloat and hopeful on a daily, monthly and yearly basis.
And when I run out of steam again, and see that I need a break again, I know now that I can do that. And nobody is going to sue me for it. In fact, I don't see how anybody could wish me anything else today but the best of luck.