The base of Persephone's neck holds tension feeling like steel lies within. She moves her neck back and forth hearing the crackling as her ears touch shoulders in turn. She finds herself attempting to alleviate the symptom, not the source.
She just doesn't feel good.
"It's as if I am not thriving, My quality of life… I'm suffering." A lump in her throat surfaces with the truth.
In present time, Perce has acknowledged the dynamic; she problem solves. Again. Her mind courses through the files of study on Alchemy. She considers her practice looking over at the knotted string smiling and shaking her head. She's been working on that skill for so very long as her acumen ebbs and flows.
Persephone talking to herself pointing to the jute line nestled in a small antique glass jar her grandmother gave her. "You're akin to a golf swing. I consider that I may integrate the task as mastery… and then, I've lost it as if I've never experienced any success."
She's elevated by the magicks that surround the journey.
Balance doesn't really exist.
As mystic, she's drawing from a feeling that aligns with her cognition as she labels the emotion from the brain that has sent out the chemistry for bodily response. Moving about while yawning, she attempts to shake a bit of the feeling coursing through her being.
In that moment, Perce's struggles with belief. An alchemist knows the power of imagining and proclaiming as truth including all the feels that place it in future reality.
"Why do I forget this dynamic so easily? I can boldly write it on a red Post-It and not see what's right before me. I wear an uncomfortable ring as symbol and find myself leaving it by my computer having unconsciously removed the constrictive band. Hmmm…."
The human condition deserves compassion.
Wow. The sense of rested. Persephone's calm and clear as her sleep was deep and kind to her. She folds the sheet and bed cover making her bed. Perce then arranges the comforter. The bed made, she folds a triangle sliding out of her cocoon allowing her feet to land in their open toed slippers. Lastly, three pillows fluffed. She nods a smile of gratitude.
Paddling to the kitchen, Perce presses the already prepared coffee for its first brew of the day. The aromas of rich dark Italian roast float to her open nose and closed eyes. The familiarity causes her to stretch ironing out the tension that comes along with the journey of sleep.
Sipping on her morning concoction holding a bold red mug, she warms her hands. Perce smiles. She feels better than she has for a long time.
"It's time to grow… And now I integrate." Persephone says as her lips form a long awaited smile.
All in right timing.
The day shows promise as she looks to her maroon binded calendar holding overwhelm at bay. Knowing that she will not accomplish it all, Perce takes action.
So far, so good.
Around 2pm, the brain chemistry does its inevitable dance. Lowering dopamine to levels that erase any form of motivation, she responds by taking a break rewarding her mind, body and soul. As of late, it's been a bit of a movie or read along with nuts and dark chocolate. Tolstoy's last tome has her attention right now.
Coffee beckons so she makes the afternoon cuppa still treating Perce includes sweet cream. Back to the tasks at hand, Persephone's relieved her long dark pause may be coming to a close.
Have you ever had a spell of no movement? You know, where you cannot quite access your groove? Do you tend to trust at those times or do they tend to be a bit of a train wreck?
For me, it can go either way...
Cheers and best,