Crash Landings

When I fall off of my cloud, sometimes it's easier than others.

There are times when I don't even know the cloud is gone. The 'big event' has come and gone and I'm still walking on air. It's akin to the cartoon characters that have walked off of a cliff but haven't realized it yet, so they are still walking on a horizontal path.

There are other times when I waft slowly down to earth, appreciating the view along the way. It's a fun way to come off of a cloud.

Other times, it's a little more like I was on a cloud in the mountains. The cloud never lifted off the earth's surface, but I was still higher than sea level. I recall my brother's mountain scrambling tales about coming down the mountain being more treacherous than the climb up. As is the case in coming off of my cloud in the mountains. Not always a straight and narrow path but the mountains I've descended have been of the 'bunny hill' version.

I have fallen off of my cloud and landed on my head. That hurts. The concussion, the rehabilitation and weaning back to the real world process is a little more labor intensive. But I survive. I always survive.

This time, it was as if my cloud was hit with a lightening bolt. I was hit at approximately 3:47 a.m. yesterday. The previous day flashed before my eyes. My heart was racing. My reactions to events of the day prior, were over the top. I was 'light sensitive' for the remainder of the day.

I talked to one sister ... I emailed the other. My mom called and we were on two different plateaus of communication and I offended her. I talked to my Second Son and (at first), he suggested that I call a friend and go to see an uplifting movie. We talked some more. He then suggested that I stay home and keep my contact with the rest of the human race to a minimum. At the day's end, there was not one person in the world that I felt like talking to. I knew I had to navigate my through this on my own.

So I did what I do best. I went to bed and slept it off.

I woke up this morning and my world is back in perspective. I have work to do, goals to attain and my own little (bunny hill) mountains to scale.

And now ... I have to find something else to pin my hopes on. 'Hope' died for a moment yesterday. But I believe in reincarnation and will keep looking for new hope.

I'm a bit of a dreamer. It's fun while it lasts, but I know that I must always return to earth. Next time, I'm going to pack a parachute.