Time To Process

I find that the bathroom here has become a sort of meditation room for me where I take time to process what’s been happening.

Perhaps it is due to the fan always being on, where the white noise helps drown out the world’s impressions by overstimming my senses.

Also, it is an official “time out zone” where it is generally accepted that other people, animals, and life pressures must “for pure decency’s sake” reliquish you to your privacy.

I am also learning that I am currently not a morning person. I do best if around 11am is my get up call. Then, I take about an hour to wake up in this prep room by looking at my Instagram, planning the day’s schedule, etc.

Soon enough (and with much conscious effort), I must break out of the lull that having space for myself provides – and push out again into the demands of the day.

Perhaps giving so much conscious focus and energy in my healing therapy is more draining than I realize.

Perhaps, also, the need for my instincts to stay constantly poised and alert for any malarkey that must be avoided or smoothed uses endurance.

For when you do not have a home of your own, other people’s energetic influences can too easily overshadow and attempt to manipulate your own.

At least, this is what my hind brain tells me.