past-draft: overpushing, pushing over..

here is a thing from the drafts folder last week… since then, i had an indoorgoblin gig which positively immersed me. that morning i had a panic attack and fell down the stairs so the musicing was much needed! (WHY MUST ELBOWS BE SO ELBOW?!?!!!). i had a lot of other things on the week before and the week before that and the week before that – gig things presentation things appointment things other things, all at once – so i have been trying to look after the body-mind-body-mind bodymindbody, in.. Various ways.. but mostly am just PushingOnBecauseIHaveTo (and then stop-pausing because i Have to, after pushing myself to that point, when i cannot actually mentally or physically Do). i can’t believe all those years ago when fatiguey things were noticed that i was given no useful advice about rest – years ago i used to think all that stuff was a alchohol-hangover! it was not.

anyway, here is the last-week draft – more writingtherapy from the ghosts of me:


a lot has been happening, and i have been pushing myself along with the a lot that’s been happening that i have been being pushed along with whilst i push myself along with it, like a… like a… squashed… pushing… pushed… pushed-pushing thing

overpushing.. pushing over.. pushed..

i saw a baby run after its pram today
and the other day i saw a baby pushing a little pram whilst behind it someone pushed a bigger pram that the baby was maybe previously in
but the one today, it was running really fast – i was surprised,
and delighted, because it seemed surprised, and delighted,
but it was running really fast – REALLY fast, for a baby,
and i was just, sat on this bit of grass by a GIANT leaf, watching this baby run REALLY fast – it was running REALLY fast, for a baby, –

none of that was why i entered this blogspace but i’ve become distracted by the park.

i went to the park to read some letters. because if i read them here i worried i’d BecomeEngulfed. so i took them to the park with a juice-box and a croissant like a letter-opening holiday – to make a picnic out of any potential post-letter gloom.
i’ve not been feeling too well. i think (know) it’s from over-pushing myself, along with the a lot. sort of like, if that running baby was being pushed by a giant baby – but it wasn’t, it was running delighted and free, arms out, having a great time.
i should be used to post-doing-things fatigue by now. but every time it happens it still surprises me, in a i shouldn’t be surprised because i know this thing but i feel sick so i am surprised way. and i know it’s a constant catch-up from over-pushing, and that the energy-debt always catches up on the bodybrainbody. but somehow, this feels..
maybe i over-exercised, with my tiny-exercise. maybe it’s just Adjusting.
maybe it’s my normal-recovering, but more-so, because of the over-pushing pushing thing.
maybe it’s the vitamin thing.
but i feel like this is…
there are a lot of energy shifts happening right now. i don’t know what you believe, but this i Feel. and everything i feel, i somehow also feel the opposite. gemini-shaped duality glimmering from somewhere.. i am fatigued, yet alive. i am a wall of tired. yet when out the voices are intense, the soul-magnets are buzzy, everything becomes… sort of, tinged… difficult to describe when i am like this
and then when i return, i return to the tired wall. the more-than-tired wall. i made myself lie down for hours the last couple of days. i dislike taking time off working-doing-trying. i feel like i should be working-doing-trying all the time, as much as physically possible. but i had to just,
i have to just,
i think i should stop for a bit and continue this the next time.
but i need to return to type-talk about the energy shifts because the energy shifts are happening. i try to accept rather than be frightened of them. i try to welcome and arrive rather than sorrow the gone. but trying is still ‘try’ because the energy shifts are happening, not happened, in the this-zone realm. the already-happened hasn’t yet caught up. i push myself through the pull and not all pieces get carried along – not in the forms that i fantasyd.
i am lonely.
a blanket of star-fizz just rushed over my beingness just as i typed that and i am not lonely.

i am not lonely;
everything is with me.
and so i hold, on, to the let-go of the hold of the let-go of the holding.

and so i hold. beyond hands, beyond heart, to the let-go of the hold of the let-go of the holding.

*+* everything is with me *+*

and so i hold.


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