The pesky thing about writing on the topic of something as wonderfully light as joy – which I did two blogs ago – is that its shadow side is quite likely to subsequently pop up and bite you on the bum. Let me explain. It seems that as soon as you take a stance on a particular subject, the cosmos, in its infinite wisdom, has this habit of kicking your butt in all the places where you simply are not embodying what you have said. Ouch!
So not long after I posted that blog piece, the big, fat opposite of juicy joy raised its ugly head and ventured a half-arsed roar. Which is to say that I had a black dog yapping at my heels, and I was singing the blues. This manifested as the dreaded: “ Yeah…whatever” voice – the side of me which feels kind of indifferent about stuff. But even though it can sometimes seem like my sullen inner teenager has come home to roost when this voice pumps up the volume, I have come to realize that there are actually some up-sides to feeling so flat – there is a lot to be gained when I listen to this part of myself.
I know that the “yeah…whatever” only gets really dominant in revolt when I have been running around like a chook – or chicken – without a head (as we say here in the Land Downunder). Which means that I have been OVER-doing everything to the point where I have become completely disconnected from my core – and from my joy. This can so easily happen during the now thankfully long-gone pre-Christmas rush. It ain’t called the Silly Season for nothing, and I approached this last one with even wilder than usual abandon. But if we go about our daily business in a manic way, we may as well be in an actual war zone, because our bodies can’t tell the difference. Yikes!
So as disconcerting as it can be to have even useful activity flat-lined by a “Yeah…whatever” response, it is also a crucial safety-valve. This is the part of me that knows how to rest – to simply be – and since I had not been allowing it to chill out, it got extremely narky. Or it would have if it wasn’t so tired of having its protestations fall on deaf ears. It had no recourse but to respond to my over-zealous comings and goings with a counteracting passive-aggression. Don’t get me wrong – being stopped dead in your tracks is often not easy or fun, but being ground to a halt sure is…grounding.
I was feeling as though the energy I am usually blessed with was being redeployed so it could be more useful in the long run. When this part of me surfaces, I need a whole lot of encouragement to want to do anything more energetic than breathing and peeing. It’s a recalibration of sorts, and the great thing is that it makes me a hell of a lot more discerning about what I give my attention to. I mean, let’s face it – if an idea gets any reading at all on the Richter scale of enthusiasm from your sullen inner teen, that tells you it’s something you really want to do, rather than something you think you should do.
So this pouty princess was for a while holding firmly onto the remote control of my life, rolling her eyes at the faintest whiff of any people-pleasing plans, and poised to change the channel straight away if she didn’t like the show. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Do you have a “Yeah…whatever” inner teen? I would love to hear your stories.
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