So far I suck at blogging once a week. I kinda skipped a week and have felt failingly behind ever since…hmm…

Know what I’m really good at though? Stubbing my toe. I stubbed it so good yesterday I broke it. My poor little toe! It’s all purple and red and taped to the one next to it. I thought about posting a picture here but my friend Tracy advised against it, apparently from prior experience. Feel free to silently thank her now.

Whenever I’m experiencing a physical symptom I make it a point to inquire into the possible mental cause for that particular malady. Yes, body? What am I trying to tell me? A friend gave me a wonderful book many years ago called You Can Heal Your Life, written by Louise Hay. It’s been a consistent go-to resource for me when in need of self-reflection and inspiration. But the section I go to most is the one where she connects physical symptoms to probable mental causes. That’s some fascinating shit. For example – she says the throat represents our ability to speak up for ourselves and ask for what we want and that when we have throat problems it’s because we don’t feel we have the right to do those things. Or that our creativity is stifled. Whenever I have throat issues I ask myself “What am I not saying? What am I afraid to say?” I’ve had low back pain for years now. Louise says that’s related to fear around money, support, etc. This smells familiar.

Sometimes the suggested “causes” ring true for me and sometimes not, but I always find the inquiry worth doing. So of course I looked up my broken toe. She says breaks and fractures are rebelling against authority. No bells going off there. Then I looked up toes, which she says represent the minor details of the future. *DingDingDing* We have a winner!!!! Bryan and I are in the midst of planning a month-long cross-country duo tour and I have had some stupefyingly mental episodes fretting about how all the pieces are going to fit together. This falls right into my weak spot wheelhouse. I enjoy having lots going on but I have to be careful or my head will start swirling. If left unchecked I can whup up such a whirlwind up there that I am literally paralyzed, unable to take a step for fear I’ll use the wrong foot and there will be dire and irreversible consequences from which I will never recover. Historically, that swirl/fear has kept me from starting things more times than I’d like to admit.

As if there’s an actual, exists-in-the-universe, no shit “right way” to do anything. There’s not. It’s almost guaranteed that I will forget this again. Repeatedly. Hopefully confessing this stuff here will serve as a reminder. Hopefully I won’t need to break another toe.