After a few belly flops from the diving board of life into the stagnant pond of anxiety, I have dried myself off and set myself up and am starting over. The problem is what to do with my anger. I have been so used to imploding it - that now I am much healthier in the deepest sense mentally and physically I can no longer do this. This means seeking out its appropriate home and naming it for what it is. I am practising the art of treating other people as grown ups rather than patronising them with my solicitude.
I have not made it down to Windsor for my conference. I am angry about that too. The main reason I haven't gone is that I have needed more time than I anticipated to 'regroup' after a recent family crisis. It was pretty gruesome and challenging by anyone's standards. Still the ground is shifting; life is changing once more; and I am learning how to vent my anger without doing a passable impression of a volcanic eruption! Typical me - I either show no anger at all or feel the potential simmering, quite suddenly to go ballistic. Fortunately I never do - but I heartily dislike the feeling.
I have named my anger today to someone who needs to hear it and I feel good about this.
Humphrey - the chocolate drop of life - is growing rapidly; now knows his name and 'sit'. He is smashing and keeps me in the moment. There is nothing like playing with a puppy to remind you what's important in life!
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