Things are better now than they have been in more than three years. I’m working full time, most of the bills are caught up, and we’ll have a nice Christmas. I feel anxious, though, and I can’t figure out why.
Last year at this time, I was working at
, doing remote work
for a university, and stressing over the upcoming holiday. We had very little
money to spare, but I've also got small scale “holiday trauma” leftover from
when I was a kid and my parents decided to become Jehovah’s Witnesses. There is nothing quite like being banished to
the school library at 7 years old when the rest of your class is having a
Christmas party. Shelving Christmas for
any reason was out of the question. I
stressed over it instead. Sanchez Art
So, I spent last year’s holiday stressing over the possibility of letting my family down. Of course, they didn't feel that way.
I pulled a halfway decent holiday out of my ass, but I paid a price for it in stress. A number of art commissions just in the nick of time financed much of it. I am grateful for the folks who asked for my work, but I resented having to fence my art in to make a buck. Now, art is the last thing on my mind, as though doing it under pressure has ruined the experience forever.
I’m grateful to be working, but I resent the time spent doing it. I've got this pre-menopausal thing going on, too, and lately I’m moody, fatigued, or aggravated a lot. I've got all this icky resentment sort of oozing out of my body language and words all the time, and I know Leslie’s just about had enough of it.
I wasn't happy when I was unemployed, and I’m cranky now.
So, what’s my problem?
Maybe I’m just tired.
This morning, I bumped into a three page article on Mata Amritanandamayi aka Ammachi in Oprah’s magazine, and I remember Her (Ammachi) saying that oceans of seekers would be toward Her coming soon. They will now, no doubt.
Maybe I just need a hug.
I hope writing this will help purge the resentment from my system. There’s a bunch of Christmas spirit out there waiting to be let in.