It’s an overcast day and it is actually drizzling, which is uncommon where I live, as I live in the desert and we get very little rain. The rain is a nice change, but its gloomy and it has left me wishing that I had the gull to lay down the money and buy a light box (btw, anyone out there have any suggestions on a good brand, that’s not crazy expensive that they would recommend?) Any who, with the day being grey and cold, I spent the morning in my super, doper, soft and warm robe (blog about this gift from God is in the works) and I was being quite cat like. It was GLORIOUS. Lounging around, laying on things, munching on muffins, sipping on coffee, hissing at people that were in my way. Like I said, glorious.
Since our plans did not start until 3 PM (an outing with my father) I chose to finish my audio book (Girl, Wash Your Face by Rachel Hollis, a good smack you in your face, tell you how it is book, which I would recommend, but be warned that it can be hard to take because I feel she’s kind of brutally honest and that’s not so common in today’s age, but it’s one I plan to listen to again). While listening I was wrapped up in my robe and snuggled under my blankets and had a cat by my side. I was not sleeping; however I was as close to heaven as a person can get while on earth. The book ended, and I just laid there contemplating things, like life and breakfast cereal and fruit bats.
Some of what I thought about was how soft my blankets were. How they felt so calming and reassuring in a way as they touched my skin. How I was warm and cozy, how I felt safe. I could hear my family in the other room, but the sounds were muffled. I kind of felt like I was in a tunnel, in my own world. I was thinking about how the softness and the way that the blankets felt on my skin brought me peace and comfort. How it was soothing and helped me feel good, helped me slow down, be at peace with myself, and my body and my mind. How it felt so incredibly rewarding to be sitting and being still in my cocoon of warmth, softness and security.
Then I started to think about a stove top, random right? But not my stove top in my kitchen but a stove top in general, one with many pots. In my mind each burner, this stove had five, had a pot on it with boiling water and in my head, I was putting a lid on each pot. This was not solving the problem of the pots boiling. I looked at the stove and I saw the knobs and it clicked, I need to adjust the knobs and turn the heat down and this will decrease the water boiling for each pot. So, that’s what I did. For each of the five pots, I turned the know down from 7 to 4. And rather quickly, the water went from a rapid boil to a small, rolling boil.
So I went from a warm cocoon to water boiling on a stove, where am I going with this? In therapy we have often spoken about the number of pots that I have on the stove. And how that once we tend to one pot, another pot tends to “go off” or sprout up. After a few years of constantly jumping from one pot to the next, I am getting tired. Today while in my protective bubble, I did some brainstorming and discovered that the idea of putting a lid on the pot that is causing trouble works, but only in the short term, where what I figured out today was that by turning down the flame will result in a more long-term solution.
Effective immediately, I will work to turn down the flame on the many pots that I have on my stove. By adding in a more long-term solution to the problem it may take longer to resolve the problem, but the problem shouldn’t (that’s the key and operative word) return at all, or not nearly as quickly as it has been currently.
It amazes me how productive I can be while laying in bed, snuggled up in a blanket, listening to my cat snore. Perhaps I could get used to rainy days and being a little bit more still from this point moving forward.