Anne Lamott said once that her mind is a neighborhood that she tries not to go in alone. Well said. I lock my doors when going through that part of town, too. It's the voices!! OK, it's my voice. I haven't gone that far. But, I can do some serious damage to my faith, self worth, or just my demeanor if left to my thoughts for long enough. My imagination is powerful. It's the Walter Mitty syndrome with a wicked twist.
There is just so much to think about. And to anticipate. And to dread. There are conversations and confrontations to be played out. I know Carole can relate to this. She goes "there", too. The 'what ifs" become intricate dramas that have happened already. So I try to quiet myself with reading, with work, and the best tonic of all, the voice of Tracy. Honestly, he can bring me home in just a second. Actually, it's taken him a couple of minutes before, but those were extreme cases. Laughter is great, too. Thank God for my hilarious children.
My lawyer, the Great Oz, told me the other day to calm down. Take a breath. You know it's bad when a high strung, energetic lawyer gets all Buddha on you. But I will breathe. He's right. 3 days til Miller. Love, love, love.
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