Round Things are Good

I like this picture because it pretty much sums up the last month of my life. Lots of electricity, lots of fire, and lots of trying to keep myself centered, bright, sunny, and aligned.

Last night, I went to the store. I purchased a CD as an impulse buy and was all excited about it. It has been ages since I have bought a CD, both because of the advent of mp3s and because of life happening. I was excited to put it into iTunes and whatnot and then I stopped dead in my tracks.

In order to put the CD into iTunes so I could share the disk with my hubby but still have it in iTunes, I would have to eject the disk of my MRI showing my spine. I have ejected the MRI disk before. I took it to chiropractor, for example, and I will take it to the neurologist tomorrow to discuss it in detail, but I froze. Could I stop obsessing about the black and white pictures that have put a reason behind the tingling, pins and needles, spasms, ticks, pain, and sleepless nights long enough to put the new music into iTunes?

I ended up just taking the music CD into my car and called it a time crunch to go visit my friend who lives an hour away and has dogs and cats she offered up for me to pet. They do make me feel better. I recommend pet therapy.

I still have the CD of my MRI in my laptop, but since I have to take it out in order to bring it with me to the neurologist appointment tomorrow, I'm going to chew on this tonight. Stop obsessing over the damn pictures of my spine.

But how?

Since today was a good day, I'll try to stop obsessing by thinking about the fact that I only had tingling and pain. No electric jolts. No spasms. No ticks. I was able to go and visit my friend and then go and visit my family tonight. I heard some live music by way of a dear family member. I forgot about the disk for most of the day. I will try to do the same tomorrow.

Breathe.

Live and just breathe. I will tell myself this and hope it sticks like gum on the bottom of a sneaker minus the fuzzy stuff that inevitably gets picked up on the bottom of my shoe along the way.

Peace and hugs,
Jen