Lucky 7. It’s lucky if you are getting lucky. Yeah baby, yeah. Welcome to Musing Interruptus. As Valentine’s Day gets pushed into the recesses of our minds and we watch the flowers wilt, and passionate declarations of love subside, the commonplace I love you, uttered to the family dog, whispered back by the coffee maker and hushed by the refrigerator, recolonizes the nooks and crannies of our habitats. Today on Musing Interruptus, Quiet Days, Recovery days.
Some mornings start out softly because softly is all you can muster. Sun rays creep through the window, beckoning your eyes to open and you know at once, we must be gentle today. Was it last night’s dream, which caused a bit more anguish than you bargained for, or pulling the all-nighter to meet a deadline? Maybe it's the accumulation of life’s wear and tear or the feeling that you’ve come to live with, more than a feeling, a new appendage. A third arm popping out of your clavicle, which cannot help, at all. You cannot even ask it to carry an extra shopping bag or glass of water. It would be most helpful if it could do something. Reality is, it is just a burden. Some live with this, every day.  Whatever it is, your body and brain are in sync. Today you must be gentle.
There are many ways to be gentle or kind with yourself. The allowance for tenderness and softness provides space for much-needed recovery. Life can be harsh. We need to find ways to deal with it. One way is to give ourselves time to process, feel, and regroup.
There are different ways to do this, it can start with an aromatic chai tea, instead of jolting yourself with an espresso. Maybe picking out a sweater that is extra soft against your skin. Taking a few extra minutes to put lotion on your feet, putting your favorite oils in your diffuser, and a chill-inducing playlist. Hell, why not go all out, take the day off and go to a spa, get a much-needed massage and facial. Pampering yourself is a fine way of creating the space to recover from the world’s harshness. Doing it to different degrees, from the chai tea in your hands to a day in the hands of professionals.
Being alone can do the trick. Time to think or not. Maybe just zone out, maybe sleep. Do what you like, when you like. Drink, smoke, listen, touch, paint, read. Process what is going on.  Let it out. As Pumba always says, better out than in.
I think that one of the best times is behind the wheel, down a highway with the wind in your hair and your best furry friends in the back seat. Some memories will live past their lives. I have to admit, that after my dog passed away, I don’t look in the backseat, because I’ll miss his face. Best dog friends are great for long road trips. They are great listeners and could care less if you cannot reach the high notes or forget the lyrics.
Not all healing is done alone… some of the best healing is done around a table, with a bottle of wine, maybe whiskey, maybe coffee. Connecting with the people we love, connecting with people who listen and we listen to.  That shared understanding of what makes you laugh harder than you thought possible. Letting it out, the thoughts, fears, pains, embarrassments, loss. When it becomes shared and set free to dissipate in the air.  The highest form of this collective healing, in my book, is laughter, of course. Count me in.
What is your favorite way to recover? Do you have a ritual? I’d love to hear it. What is your favorite place to laugh? Who do you love laughing with?  I’m listening.

---

Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/musingsinterruptus/message