I want to cry, "Gram, where are you?"

     I'd been so content recently. Then things became twisty and competed for attention. First, I had a breakthrough and I understood something about myself that had been hidden in a blind spot, and then, suddenly, I didn't even have time to follow up on the breakthrough.

     What happened? I'm tired, trying to catch up at a time of month when my body needs more rest anyhow. I get less accomplished and then stay up trying to gain speed. I forget what I need to do the next day and, in spite of my planner, realize there is something important to do and stay up late again. Then I'm so tired the next day that I take a cat nap, only to realize that I have napped two sleep cycles and lost more time.

     What happened is that my adult son who lives with me, a brilliant and charming friend, had a sudden lack of medication due to nationwide "shortages". Suddenly stopping one's meds has poor consequences and my son has a bag of issues that he and his doctor respond to pharmaceutically. His medical issues usually take time but I have made time for them. When extra time is taken, my contentment, borne of the headway I'd made with my business of connecting with people who want to be free of their pain, comes to a damning realization that I no longer have any time. Building a business to soon reach a place of freedom does not yet have space to deal with medical issues and the nihilism that comes with pulling a medication.

     I'm blessed with visits from my ancestors in my sleep. Since making peace with my maternal grandmother (whom I deeply love but with whom I had a rift in adulthood) in my sleep, I have been able to visit with her on occasion. I've recently been looking for their wisdom. My own sage wisdom is not assuaging my deep tiredness, overwhelm, and fear. People I have been serving are having housing crises, car crises, and school crises, and I'm not getting paid. There's a lot that's concerning and feels like a time crunch. The veil is thin now, but I have done nothing to cultivate a visit from any of my ancestors. I want to cry, "Gram, where are you?"

     Life has taught me quite a lot about the uncertainty of events. Who's to know what's good and what's bad? Everything that happens opens a door, and when it is not what we assumed or hoped for, it is a new opportunity. Ultimately, the worst injuries have taught me that I have an almost unfathomable capacity to heal myself. My son is learning what his capacity is without meds. He is not getting much help, since the faculty at college don't care if he fails an exam because he missed material, even if from illness brought on by a documented medical condition that's suddenly untreated. Still, he is learning a new relationship with food and energy because he can eat better without the medication. 

     This short chapter is going to teach me something phenomenal. Sometimes, we just need to breathe and remember that, no, not everything will be as planned but still, everything will be okay and life is full of surprises.