My judgy inner critic was having a heyday with all that I was getting wrong. I was judging my levels of doing AND being. My inner critic told me that I wasn’t doing enough, not doing the right things, not making enough time for being with my sporadic range of emotions. Beating myself up for not exercising more, not resting more, not getting more done, not magically becoming a world class chef, not [insert one million other things I “should” be doing]. It’s NOT helpful energy.

I’ll never forget what that moment taught me about the power of perspective.

All the “evidence” told me I was shit outta luck. Stuck.

And my nervous system was convinced I was in trouble.

But by accessing my imagination through the doorway of Stevie Nicks singing “Gypsy”, I could tap into my creativity and intuition.

I could trust and locate myself again even though my GPS couldn’t find me.

And I was yoyo-ing back and forth between wanting to sign up for absolutely every online offer I saw or go cold turkey and delete all social media for my own sanity. The “productive”, overdoing part of me was spinning out. The illusion that I could control work things in a way I couldn’t control anything else in my life was an oh-so-tempting invitation. I was desperate to feel better (and productive! Helpful! Of service! Needed! Like I was really earning this privilege to be able to work from home while others are on the front lines or out of jobs or sick!).

Yesterday I went down to the river to reflect. The river where I almost drowned once, the river where my Grandpa would fly fish (right off his 4 wheeler in his later years), the river that’s home to bears and fish and eagles and deer.