The further I get from the last entry the harder it seems to write again. I was sick, really sick, for over a week. I was drained physically, which led to an emotional breakdown. Panic and anxiety subverted my efforts to stay present. Self deprecating talk and doubts filled my mind. I struggled to stay above the thoughts.
And life continued. The classes I signed up for started whether I was ready or not. Looking at it now, it was a good exercise to see how ready I was to enter the main stream of life. Well at least get my toes wet. Was I ready? I don't know. I am too much of a beginner to see objectively. Though, my frightened mind says - No.
What ifs and maybes crowd my thoughts. I recall an artist's self-doubt listed in the Artist's Way - What if I am no good and people notice?
I reach for Mike's presence, his strength to steady me. It is then I realize I have fallen back to the edge of the labyrinth. I was fooled again to think I was emerging from from the shadow of my grief into the center of that mysterious maze.
In some strange way I find comfort that I am back at the edge of the labyrinth. It offers an explanation for my panic and self doubt. I can acknowledge them as feelings, not facts.
Breathing in, I watch.... Breathing out wait...
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