{"id":3556,"date":"2025-02-09T14:20:44","date_gmt":"2025-02-09T19:20:44","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/deborahblackwell.com\/?p=3556"},"modified":"2025-02-09T21:51:10","modified_gmt":"2025-02-10T02:51:10","slug":"a-read-through-my-morning-pages","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/deborahblackwell.com\/?p=3556","title":{"rendered":"A Read Through My Morning Pages"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/p>\n

By Deborah Blackwell<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

I was never afraid to step out into the air until five years ago, when that very fresh air brought on POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, aka Long COVID). It drastically changed my life. I\u2019m still recovering.<\/p>\n

There\u2019s also the ongoing fallout from a perilous world order. Viruses, guns, war, outrageous grocery prices, bare supermarket shelves, unseasonable seasons (too hot or cold, too wet or dry), unsafe, random episodes of hazardous particulate matter \u2026 it\u2019s all in the air.<\/p>\n

Both reality and frequent, uncomfortable dreams often disrupt my sleep, along with the pulse pulse<\/em> pulse<\/em> of my heartbeat in my ear, muffled by my soft pillow. While that sound should be soothing, I have to put my hand under my cheek and press the pillow away from my ear to make the steady pulsing less noticeable. I take long, slow, deep breaths. The breath of life. The life I\u2019ve been afraid to live but trying to live for five years. The life I am now trying to partner with instead of fearing.<\/p>\n

When I wake up, I do Morning Pages, or stream-of-consciousness writing, to clear the night\u2019s mental clutter. Embraced globally as a well-being tool, the process involves writing three pages longhand for about 15 minutes right after waking and before coffee when the brain is still hazy. I don\u2019t do that, but after I brush my teeth and while the coffee is brewing, I open my laptop and type my Morning Pages. Sometimes, it delivers.<\/p>\n

The other day, I began writing about having bad dreams. A few sentences in, I suddenly noticed the words I had used:<\/p>\n

Nightmare. Nightmare situation. Nightmare news. Nightmare health. Nightmare grocery costs. Nightmare viruses. Nightmare politics. Nightmare world. Nightmare fill-in-the-blank.<\/em><\/p>\n

It struck me: Wow, that\u2019s my current mindset! Many things feel out of control, like \u201cnightmares,\u201d especially since the pandemic. So much has changed. My body doesn\u2019t feel familiar. The world doesn\u2019t feel familiar. And, whether we realize it or not, everyone is reacting. It\u2019s in the air.<\/p>\n

Later that same day, I went to the doctor, desperate for relief from a lingering, brutal sinus infection. My doctor paused in the middle of her exam.<\/p>\n

\u201cDeborah.\u201d She looked into my eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think you have been keeping your feelings to yourself,\u201d she said. \u201cActing as if everything is fine. Pushing forward without speaking your true feelings. And they are manifesting as symptoms.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

Pain and discomfort surged through my body like a wave. She was right. I\u2019ve held my feelings about the challenges of POTS and the uncomfortable situations that preceded it at bay \u2014 ironically, even in Morning Pages. But at some point, discomfort has its say.<\/p>\n

When I left her office and rejoined Sir Husband in the half-full waiting room, I quietly said, \u201cWait until I tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n

And when I did, years of accumulated internal muck \u2014 covering everything from having POTS to his ex-wife\u2019s relentless campaign of parental alienation, my mother\u2019s mysterious yearslong merry-go-round ride between living and dying, empty nest syndrome, aging, the world at large, and many other things \u2014 spilled out of my mouth in an unfiltered word-vomit so long that I didn\u2019t come up for air. (Poor Sir Husband.)<\/p>\n

I know that thoughts and mindsets influence actions and reactions and that the mind-body connection is real. I\u2019m as authentic as they come and a proponent of speaking our feelings. So, what was I waiting for? The nightmare to be over?<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not easy to refocus negative mental clutter that feels like part of our makeup. It takes noticing and untangling internal belief systems and changing habitual thinking despite triggers in the non-utopia we call home. Is there even a way to feel safe in a world of nightmare news? Thoughts can quickly turn to fear, and fear is a powerful driver.<\/p>\n

The next day, my Morning Pages were more like Morning Questions:<\/p>\n

What if I don\u2019t have to feel like this? Is all this overthinking, worrying, stressing, predicting disaster, and rushing bringing relief? How much energy would I save if I approached life with more ease? I know there\u2019s good around me; what if I\u2019m more aware of it? What would it feel like if my physical discomfort was alleviated \u2026 or if I could breathe easily \u2026 or live in a peaceful world?<\/p>\n

Even contemplating those answers felt soothing.<\/p>\n

Thinking and feeling (and sharing) are fluid. The nightmare may not be over, but I keep remembering this sage notion that I heard on the last episode of PBS\u2019 \u201cLittle Women\u201d:<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing is ever perfect, but things can be just right.\u201d<\/p>\n

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