Are You Gorgonized in Trying Times?

Oh, I am very weary, though tears no longer flow; my eyes are tired of weeping, my heart is sick of woe. — Anne Bronte

I am in a strange place. My highly sensitive (HSP) clouded brain lags behind the swift and monumental changes swirling around me. Three years of processing continual loss — of loved ones and joyful activities (due to ccp/covid restrictions and mandates)…and last week’s death of yet another family member, along with Russia’s travesties in the Ukraine, is wearying (and that’s without constant input of the always tragic “news”).

I’ve fought hard and now I’m weary to the bone. — Michael Landon

The overall crumbling brokenness — in business, government, and society increasingly augments the ability to accomplish everyday activities and the simplest of tasks. Feeling stuck and disoriented in these times of spiral silk, life itself slows to a halt. Again.

Too often we try to gain a clear perspective before it is time. That will make us crazy. — Melody Beattie

Nothing is as nothing was. Change is the only constant, I know. But so much change all at once is an unsettling overload. I sense a crossroads on this unfamiliar, foggy path but unable to clearly see what is ahead, I stop. Wait before taking another step into obscurity and possibly falling into quicksand.

Life is a series of letting go’s — an infinite series of letting go’s. All things in life are given us on loan. Stand face-to-face with life, learn to let go, and whatever comes our way — success or failure, joy or sorrow, support or betrayal, light or darkness — it all blesses us. Once we have learned to let go, we are prepared for whatever life gives us. And death itself is nothing to be feared. — Matthew Fox

Death itself does not frighten me. But, uncertainty is paralyzing.

The promise of Spring’s arrival is enough to get anyone through the bitter winter. — Jen Selinsky

When HSPs are worn out, Dr. Aron indicates they may be unaware of anything except their own need for a break. Write Gardener may have left college eons ago but definitely needs a restorative Spring break. I thank God for Mother Nature and thirst for her wondrous gift of Spring.

“It always amazes me to look at the little, wrinkled brown seeds and think of the rainbows in ’em,” said Captain Jim. “When I ponder on them seeds I don’t find it nowise hard to believe that we’ve got souls that’ll live in other worlds. You couldn’t hardly believe there was life in them tiny things, some no bigger than grains of dust, let alone colour and scent, if you hadn’t seen the miracle, could you?” — L.M. Montgomery, Anne’s House of Dreams