On the floor

It is late evening.
Nothing is going according to plan. The adrenaline is flowing to the level I can almost hear it in my ears.
I have nowhere to turn…

It is late evening.

Nothing is going according to plan. The adrenaline is flowing to the level I can almost hear it in my ears.

I have nowhere to turn. No one to call or to talk too.

I try to talk to one of my kids. She explicitly tells me she doesn’t feel good if I am cracking up – so she doesn’t want to talk to me.

I sink down on the floor. The dogs think we are finally going to play… I close my eyes and ask myself all those stupid questions you should not ask yourself. Why this and that and why that person…

Go to bed my daughter says. So I do. No washing up or changing. Just falling on to the bed like some drunk.

I wake up with a dog in my face and yesterday’s clothes still on.

I walk out the door. Life is apparently still going on without any difference.

I start to water plants and let animals out. My mind is blank like the surface of a lake.

My tea is ready and I go back in again. I change my chair. I sit down and turn the machines on again.

It looks like my webhost has some problem – my webmail is completely blank – I don’t even bother now. They have recovered it before by themselves and right now – even if I did lose my entire inbox I wouldn’t really care.

That inbox is somehow related to the person having this issues, so probably something wrong with it anyway.

I just sit and look at my screen. I can’t really be that alone can I? The thought goes round and round.

Let us play with the thought I am not. Then there is something I can work on with others here isn’t it? I open the laptop fully now. Type in a few things…

Hmmm maybe maybe in all the chaos I found my purpose…all wrapped up into one…

To be continued.

309 signals to go.

Image courtesy to Paisan191 at www.freedigitalphotos.net

 

Drowning in a water glass

Falling into a 2m deep hole covered by snow finding Ground Zero…

When I was very young and first started school it was mandatory to learn how to swim and dive.

I remember especially when we suppose to jump from the higher (3m) trampolin. My big worry was when I finally arrived in the water, that I would misunderstand what was up and down, and swim in the wrong direction and consequently die because I would never have enough time to get back up to the surface in time due to my little detour.

So I never dive from from any heights. Not then and not now.

Now I know that if I am confused down there I just blow out some air and it will show me where is up, however now I am concerned if I would hit something I can’t see from the surface on my down.

And die and never come up.

Another time I accidently fell into a 2m deep hole covered by snow, so once in it I had no idea what it was, how deep it was and where safety was. And I was fully winter dressed and it was around 40 cm of snow so no one could hear me mumbling around there.

Eventually I had to give up – I couldn’t stay afloat longer.

So I let myself sink.

And sink.

The layer of snow vanished over my head like icebergs.

Eternally and evergreen and I would just be forever gone.

But.

Then I hit the bottom.

And when I hit the bottom I realized I could jump myself up.

And when I could jump I could explore where there was something to hold on to.

And once I done that I could climb up.

And once up I could walk home.

I almost drowned – in a hole – made for a waterpump on the back side of someone’s summer house, which they left uncovered during the winter – in a water glass it felt like.

The sinking – regardless of if it is air, water or in our minds – is the scary part. Am I dying? what will that be like? Will it happen soon or w ill I experience pain first? How far away is it? Is this the beginning or the end?

Surviving at this stage isn’t always an option. Everything is surrendered and we sink.

Flying through the air. Sinking like stones in water. Lost in our minds.

And then the crash. Hitting rock bottom.

And we wake up. (Hopefully).

Our personal Ground Zero.

343 signals home. Pushing upwards.

Image courtesy of winnond at FreeDigitalPhotos.net