Lately, I've met each morning with a spinney head and wibbley wobbley walk to the loo. Today, I felt wickedly nauseous, too. It could have been last night's dreams or a sinus infection…or too much Southern sweet tea.
Whatever the culprit, it had me miss my first Wednesday walk-date with my friend, Sarah; a lunch walk-fest with Sondra, and a meeting with the guys later tonight. For a girl who seeks community, missing these people is worse than the spinning tilt-o-whirl that is my equilibrium.
So I've been sitting up in bed or in the main room (no laying down or – OY!), reading a bit, and now trying to write without toppling off the red chaise and to my right.
And because the spins fling faster when I'm wearing my glasses, I've flung them afield and now am squinty and wibbley and wobbley.
It is no fun being disoriented.
What was really a belt on the floor, looked like a black snake in my boudoir (aaiiiieeeee!)
And what was a clean tee shirt became the receptacle for the coffee that circumvented my mouth (gasp!)
What was a day of planned excitement and conversation has become a day of rest on the lilting tilting plane that is the TinyB&B, or my home.
Even the most basic movements this morning became acts of faith and dependence.
Now, I know this is my annual sinus doo-dah, but it still makes the world seem a little scarier…like I'm a guppy swimming in a shark tank…with venomous snakes dropping from the ceiling and the water a swirl of surf.
A day to grow the trust muscle. That thing hasn't so much as atrophied, but was never developed. I've got strong curmudgeon muscles, independent and ornery muscles; even an if-I-work-harder-God-will-be-pleased muscle. Oh-and my new favorite…my "failure-muscle." Or maybe it's just the "fear-of-failure-&-get-over-it" muscle.
Today, in a very real and visceral sense, I've had to depend on God for my physical and caffeinated well-being.
I have a feeling that this sick day is really a Laboratory of the Divine.
A love gift from someone who is wooing my greatest capacity to love with an offer to raise me a million x infinity in love.
I cannot love Him nor receive this gift nor do good or make a difference without Him. And he deserves more than my sloppy seconds.
So I'll just keep asking him to do what I can't and sit up in bed as this spinning wears off and my to do list is replaced with a "depend & do" list.
Love you, Allie
Even when you’re feeling punk and pukey, you’re eloquent.
You may feel disoriented, but I always get the sense that you know roughly where you are on the map. Maybe not specifically where, but roughly where is way better than most.
Spinning, swirling, swaying, tumbling, swinging, silly sickness thingy – may not be fun, but it’s benifited me. Your rambling of jibber jabber spoke to me. Thanks for sharing. Be healed.