What Rises to the Top

It’s interesting to see what rises to the top.

It’s been nearly 3 months since I’ve been signed off sick and each month has had a theme of sorts.

Month 1

For the first month, I worked frantically on resurrecting an online program my wife and I had developed some years ago but that had tanked, spectacularly.

The idea was that, following lockdown and in the absence of in-person courses, the program would have more traction and would bring in a little bit of income; a side hustle which meant I wouldn’t have to return to work.

Along with this, I spent an hour on Wednesdays locked in the loft with a 6-pack of counselling provided by my Employment Assistance Program and administered via Zoom. My required reading was Homecoming: Reclaiming and Championing Your Inner Child, by John Bradshaw.

Towards the end of the first month, and in the spirit of #lockdown, I began to record videos of me performing some of my tracks. And, of course, I began this blog, Stinker to Finca.

Busy, busy busy!

Month 2

During month two, and following encouragement from close friends, the music took centre stage, and I learnt to use Adobe’s video editing software, Premiere Pro. The online program failed to launch (again) so I began exploring other side-hustle options, working through month 2’s required reading, Chris Guillebeau’s, Side Hustle – From Idea to Income in 27 Days. That was about 40 days ago…

On the recommendation of my belle-mère, and with my counselling all used up, I also began consultations with D, a Faster EFT practitioner, as a way to work through the anxiety and panic attacks that had seen me signed off work.

The sessions began well with helpful insights into past pain and how the legacy of that pain was replicating itself over and over into my present. There were shifts and tears, insights and epiphanies. The sessions also surfaced a fair deal of darkness so that by the end of the 2nd month, it was all I could do just to get through the day – I was stewing in the toxic swamp.

And the kicker? I was creating my own suffering, little crises that I thought I needed to get the love and attention I wanted.

Galling.

Month 3

Which brings us to now – a pot pourri of struggle and freedom, hope and despair. I’m tapping and meditating, steeping myself in gratitude and cherishing my children. My music and side-hustle aspirations have fallen away and with a return to work imminent, all that’s left of these pursuits is my writing; redrafting my first novel and continuing on my second.

The writing is what’s rising to the top.