It’s not often that we get to know, right at the moment it is happening, that the moment has come after which life will never be the same again.
I live a dramatic on-the-surface life (juxtaposed with the under-the-surface what’s-she-going-to-do-next aspect, but we’ll leave that one under the surface for now, because this is my blog and I can show you what I want to, and hell, do you actually know what percentage of this (if any) is completely made up?) so I have those moments often.Â The first one that I recall with absolute certainty happened in the back-room semi-office where I did my work and spied on my coworkers for our respective bosses (that was such a comfortable situation *cough*). A coworker walked into the room from outside and it was as if he came in from the apocalypse, breathing heavily and leaning against the door, having managed to shut it against the firestorm outside, when in reality he sauntered in, said something unremarkable, and I knew that in that moment life as I knew it had changed forever.
(Of course, I wasn’t sure how it changed, which rendered that tidbit of psychic phenomena slightly less useful.)
Today I went for a hike.Â It’s remarkably cold in the damp green moss-covered primeval forests around here the day after a hard rain.Â It’s also remarkable about the flies. After about 10 minutes a fly joined me, circling incessantly round and round my head as I walked.Â I kept thinking I would outwalk the fly, but no.Â He was clearly following me.Â Then I tried dissuading the fly, believing in my powers of dissuasion and throwing energetic blocks at the fly to make it go away.Â After several minutes of this it occurred to me that I was taking the wrong approach.Â I should send love to the fly.Â I pictured the fly wrapped in a cocoon of love, everything it needed in that small sweet space, not needing anything from me.Â I knew the fly would just drift off happily and leave me alone, sweetly engorging on pure love.
Now there were two flies, buzzing round and round my head in annoying dissonance.Â Could they not even buzz the same note?
I tried ignoring them.
I gave up.
I am somewhat convinced that it was this giving up that led to the conversation with my inner voices.Â You have those, right?Â Or, maybe not.Â Anyway, I do.Â Anytime my mind is not actively engaged in something else, there’s an inner chorus telling me things.Â It used to be things like, “You’re fat!” or “You’re a failure!” but I stopped listening to those voices a while ago.
Today I started telling the voices what I wanted.
Turns out, I want quite a lot.Â And that’s okay.Â We all want stuff.Â So we had quite a talk, the voices and me, and this time it was different.Â We made plans.Â I got advice.Â I have homework.
I’d tell you more, but I’m kind of busy.Â Homework.Â Writing.Â Stuff like that.
Next time you hear voices (especially if there had been flies involved), listen.Â You’re wiser than you suspect.
P.S. It’s all good.