I have gone down with Noddie's foul lurgi like a statue of Lenin in 1992 and for the last three days have been up to nothing more than coughing and croaking my way from bed to couch and back. I "should" have put 20km in the Melbourne marathon bank this morning - but you know what? A) there's no way I could physically do it, and B) it would have been the wrong thing to do. When you're sick - and people do get sick - you need to rest. It's the right thing to do right now.
Now calm down, people! No need to panic! Hysterically self-blaming LBTEPA has not been kidnapped, brainwashed, and sent back spouting airy-fairy new-age BS. I think, at long-overdue last, she may have just faded away. And Hoo-f#$%-ing-ray, say my five faithful readers. You've been very patient.
I was reading this today, thanks to my brilliant friend Fiona (I don't know if she reads this but if you do Darl, big hugs to you mate!!!) and although I don't completely subscribe to the whole "everything happens for a reason" argument, I do like its key message:
IT'S OK. YOU'RE DOING WHAT YOU'RE MEANT TO BE DOING.
I do know what my values are and how to live by them. I just have to let myself be peaceful enough to do it. I might have moments of OMGwhat'sgunnahappenifI'mthis farbehindalreadyDISASTERDISASTER!! but I don't have to respond to them. If I let go of my illusion of control over outcomes and have faith in the process - and myself - all will be well.
I must be away now, my treasures, for a late-afternoon nap in readiness to watch Cadel have a crack at the maillot jaune. It's on at about midnight our time, curse those sophisticated Europeans and their pesky time zones.
Aussie Aussie Aussie, allez allez allez!
More anon, domestiques!