Friday, August 28, 2009

The Chicken Without a Head

Things to do, places to go, people to see, ideas to germinate . . . I am suffering from busy mind. My brain won't give me a rest and is on a war path with my still, deeper self. I shall embrace the busy-ness, and find out what it wants. Not fight it. Circle around its perimeter instead. Starting with the rapid beat of my heart. While paying attention - or rather attempting to - each breath. And when I need a break, listening to the morning sounds. Squirrels dropping their nuts on the tin roof. Prad coming in and asking "Where are you?". I delight in those distractions. Then go back to attend to the constrictive state in my stomach. I know this is not a new condition. And remember the comment from one of the patients, whom I worked with years ago, at the psych ward in El Camino Hospital. The old woman's wisdom was not lost on me: "You look like a chicken running with its head cut off." Today, I am feeling the angst of the injured chicken.

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