Finally today, after what seems like days and days of resting ,with no energy, this afternoon a delivery arrived .Of energy.
When this happens, it's such a surprise. Such a delight. And you're goal is to enjoy it, but not overdo it. Or you get your butt kicked. It's what Adrenal Fatigue and any other depletion conditions, are like.
Everyone's allocation of energy is a barometer of how you are functioning.
We all have an allowance of energy each day we wake up, that reflects the state of our organs and systems, our genes, and our will.
The trick to learn is to do what you can to not spend more than your allowance. Really and truly. Or you dip into the savings account of your body.
Yes, there is one, and you can measure it ,too. Palpate it. You can go and surprise clients, by letting them know how well they've been sleeping, how much energy they have each day, and if they're building up their savings account, or draining it. People are so blown away that you can measure things like this. But you can. In more modalities than just Integrative Acupressure.
Using more than you have is no good. Because then you are more vulnerable to getting new conditions, or losing a struggle with a threatening or old one.
Some people have a period of time when they have more extraordinary demands upon them. Caring for somebody who is sick. Being pregnant and having a baby. Going to school. Parenting. Having a job that's very draining and doesn't fit you at all. Starting a job or business . Having a home situation that is fairly stressful. Breaking up or getting a divorce. Chronic subclinical infections, and so on.
Each and every one of these will drain energy, and impact, and eventually harm, organs and systems.
Which is why we try the best we can to both take good care of ourselves, and do things than offset challenging conditions, or difficult circumstance.
Sometimes we have to continue, caring for others, taking care of ourselves , working, and dealing with our lives. But sometimes, we have a little room to align how much we have to do - with what our bodies can manage, to avoid further damage. And have a chance at healing.
When I used to work in my practice, I simply wished that I could share this dynamic with everyone in the world.
Especially when they had a serious condition, or a possibly life-threatening condition.
Because people don't always understand that, if their body is really struggling, the less they do, the more energy there's going to be to possibly overcome the illness. Or grow a healthy immune response to a virus.
Or at least hedge their bets, and grow the most magnificent deep immune health they possibly can.
Today, when there was some energy, I said "Well, hello there!". And then I thought carefully. About how I wanted to spend it. Keeping a lookout for when it started to wane.
If you want to take care, you stop before your gas tank is on empty, not after. It's like leaving the party with your kids while they.'re still sane, so they don't erupt in some Armageddon form of freak out in the car.
I moved an outdoor wall ornament from our shed to the front of the tenants cottage. I took the wheelbarrow and a shovel, and dug up some mulch, both to cover the new hole in the front of the house ( thanks, Dante) and to pile around an old lamp post, covering it with a clay pot and pretty stones.
I relocated where we tie the dogs out to the backyard,… dug up the foxgloves that were all crowded in by the back door, and gave them new homes. Planted all the perennials that were in pots, so they'd survive the winter, roots deep in the ground .
Oh, it felt glorious. I'd been wanting to do each of these for weeks.
The sun was going down, and sky was striped with different shades of blue, in layers.
I brought Shiva out back, to be tied up, her old domain from before. She was so happy, exploring.
I took straggly still-blossoming pansies, their earth frozen , from their pots, and planted them, so that they would last the winter. Or reseed.
Out front, Dante and I pushed the leaves around with our feet, so that the soil will soften and mulch, becoming more receptive for a front garden , come spring.
Heaped leaves around perennials to buffer them from the freezing and thawing of the coming winter.
Dante had a turn at the new rope outback. He was fascinated. I stayed with him, so that he could explore and not be afraid. For the first time, he had the impulse to announce his domain. A surprise. So I told him what a good dog he was, standing out there, happy as pie, my cheeks cold and red.
Seeing my breath. Saying goodnight to the garden, all the dry seeds of plants awaiting the bird's feeding throughout the cold months .
Save the Foxglove, that stays green all winter, the Sorrel and a few last Rose blossoms.
The five-year- old Kale plants, with their broad leaves await inclusion in some minestrone soup. Each year they have the honored distinction of being the very first plant to blossom ,come spring . Heralding a mass arrival and outrageously happy celebration from zillions of happy butterflies and insects. I mean, if I ever get it together to video them, watching it would brighten your darkest day.
Finally darkness fell, everything put away, the outside furniture and grill and tomato stakes piled together awaiting a tarp cover. Which will both protect them , and become one more safe haven for wild ones . Whose identity will be revealed ,when you catch sight of their footprints , after a snowfall, and realize what creatures are wintering over where.
Really , if I were handy with a saw and nails and energy, I would build so many creature homes to place nailed into dead trees or pressed far into inaccessible brush. Because our small creatures are increasingly becoming rare, due to their twin predators cars, and Coywolves.
Last winter a possum lived in the downed willow trunk, venturing out in the morning light to the nearby compost for breakfast. I'd see food bits being tossed here and there, and sit at the bedroom window, waiting for the soft young grey being to have their safe fill, and happily make their way back home.
A rabbit lived in the brush pile nearby; I'm certain they knew about each other, with their safe-from-Coywolf journeys to the food source.
The adolescent crows generally come to the winter compost in mid morning , the Coywolved in the night, except for those deep winter days, when you come home after a fresh snow, go out an hour later, and the pack has silently made their territory point, striding up between the house and the cottage as the cats quietly watch, the male usually urinating on the Mountain Laurel out front. Just in case we missed their point.
Standing in the falling darkness , I suddenly felt a falling back inside of me, of low energy reserves. What you watch for, and no cheating. You overplay; you pay.
So off Dante and I went, into the warm, nicely humidified house, to have hot tea, and count our blessings. You ; go count your own blessings, too.
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