Finding One's Juice or The State of My Internal State Department

Last evening, I lay on the sofa berating myself. Not a loud, harsh berating but a subtle, just below the radar of my consciousness berating. I had just written and posted a piece about the New Story and was quite upset the piece didn't have the juice or energy I like my writing to have. The truth was I was the one missing 'the juice.' Of course, I didn't realize this. In the moment I blamed hormones and my imminent period. Then I blamed the planets. I knew from a prior reading that Neptune's on my Mercury or something like that leaving me without the communicative, creative skills on which I thrive especially as someone ruled by Mercury which is all about communicating. I furthered my disconnected, juiceless state with a glass of red wine while watching news reruns of members of the new administration greet and talk with employees of the State Department. It wasn't until I shuffled down the hallway that I glimpsed what was going on in my 'internal state' department.

Like a shooting star, a thought from nowhere shot across my mind's night sky. It went something like: "I hope I don't loose this house." Last year through a series of synchronistic events, I bought a house in the country, a home that I literally felt had been awaiting me. Why would I suddenly think about loosing it?

Then another star shot past. "What if Bogey's dying?" Bogey is the tabby kitten that showed up the week of my birthday, the exact week I had asked Templeton my cat of nearly 18 years to return to me during her decline and death a year ago this coming week. Two hours earlier while I wrote the juiceless story about the New Story, the old story was being enacted in my heart as Bogey lay curled by my head at the top of my recliner. In the quiet, the only sounds were the periodic tapping of my fingers on the computer key board and the noticeable sound of Bogey's swallowing. The unavoidable sound reminded me of Templeton's final days. I did not want to hear this sound but couldn't avoid it. In pauses I would think, 'I don't want to loose this cat, but will if I must' and kept writing.

It wasn't until I lay in the dark bedroom that I realized my internal state department was filled with fear and mistrust. I have said at times that I've a defective wanter, not in the sense of our consuming, materialistic culture but in the allowing one's heart to long. Having grown up with Disappointment as a companion, I thought I had mastered not longing or wanting.



Fortunately over the recent years as I've embodied my personal shift, little green shoots of longing have emerged from what has felt like the cold earth of my heart much like the little plant in my garden that around New Year's was waking up to new life.


Yet in the dark of the night, I discovered that I didn't trust that both my new home and kitten would not be taken from me. Maybe the punitive, hell-fire-and-brimstone God of my childhood had not yet experienced or imagined the shift. My internal shift was in the process of being killed off by my lack of consciousness. The fear-based messages hanging out on my insides were draining life from me or the juice to which I was accustomed, just like a cold blast had killed the plant that two weeks prior had been greening.
Yes, this is the little plant. The Good News is I'm quite certain that in a few weeks I'll be able to post its resurrection thanks to the life juice that courses through it combined with just the right mix of elemental ingredients.


As for me, my 'juice' returned as soon as I became conscious or aware of what was transpiring inside me. The quiet fears of loss had resurrected the barrier around my inner garden, a fence around my heart allowing me to glimpse just enough love, beauty and delight, but not too much lest I get attached to a place, person or pet and have to suffer its loss.

What would happen if I consciously removed the barrier or took down this fence? What would it look like if I felt much delight or joy? Messages like winter cold fronts arrive. I hear: "Don't get all wrapped up in yourself." (Translation: You won't be liked if you're self-centered.) Another follows quickly with: "I don't want to be around when the other shoe drops." (Translation: Loss and pain are sure to follow your attachments.) Regardless of wine, Neptune or hormones, it was quite obvious that I had not been communicating with my own internal state of affairs. I had parts of myself that needed the reconciliation and diplomatic efforts of which I had earlier heard Obama, Clinton and Biden speak. I was the one experiencing juicelessness or aliveness not because I was afraid but because I wasn't aware of what was going on inside me.

Then I realized the barrier had been not only kept fear in but kept good ingredients out. Yesterday held two affirming interactions with strangers, each who temporarily infused me with excitement regarding a writing project on which I had just recommitted to work. My excitement was hardly even temporary thanks to the barrier.

Realizing all of this brings a smile and a sense of sinking down, resting into the soil of my Soul. From this place lively shoots of green immediately begin to sprout again even on this gray, winter's day.

The Good News - The juice of life awaits us even when the harsh weather of unchecked fears and attitudes temporarily block the flow. At any moment with presence and mindfulness, we can return to our hearts, open to what and who we find there and in doing so we return the heart to the world. - Dawn, the Good News Muse