I’m finding that the mind I had before is the mind I still have now, replete with the same well of future-focused anxiety and dread, but it’s wrapped in cotton. The blow is softened. It doesn’t pack the same punch.
It moves on with fleeter feet and doesn’t overstay its welcome.
Some days, the mental chaos is more and I yearn for peace and quiet. Maybe I’m just tired. Maybe I’m just recovering from being locked into hyperdrive for so long. Maybe I need a deep sleep. Or maybe my mental side is just rebelling.
The mushrooms are protecting me.
The mental tides come and go like moon cycles. Is this biology? Does this happen for most people?
I return to the breath. It’s there that I can find center. Sometimes the focus of my attention is too much and I lose my connection to myself. Maybe it’s my energy levels being off.
In any case, I continue to wait to wake up to a day when the pain has receded and I feel alive and well.
I’m okay but I am not well yet.