Painted Mind

Everything is okay. Everything is okay. Everything is okay.

Just keep saying that over and over.

I sit to work this morning and realize that I am filled with anxiety. It's a lot of pressure getting both girls off to school on time, me caring about being prompt even more than they do, carrying the psychic weight for them.

Dealing with the painter is not my favorite thing to do. He's a nice enough guy, but the whole process is a delicious obstacle for me. One of those challenges that life throws in your path to remind you to be flexible.

I was talking to a friend last night and mentioned that my Buddhism didn't seem to be very active at this point. "I could certainly do with a bit more acceptance of Impermanence," I remarked to her laughter. "Perhaps a bit less Attachment to outcomes?"

This re-painting has most of my least favorite elements wrapped up in it. It's a big change. There's someone in my personal space, disrupting my routine. I don't know what the outcome will be. I'm not really in control of the process.

And while, obviously, all of those elements are true in life -- ALL THE TIME -- and we just want the illusion that there is more safety, control, stability and permanence than there really is, still, STILL, this process is really throwing all of that in my face.

In a way that's a bit difficult to come to terms with before nine am every single morning.

At least all the windows aren't taped shut anymore.