Rest for the weary

I remember years ago, my Father saying "there is no rest for the weary" and I used to laugh when I heard. Now at 42, I understand.

I reside somewhere between overachiever and underachiever but am closer to over achiever. I am considered by some a dynamo but revelation has since told me that I care more about others than myself. In basic laymen's terms, I do too much. This has caused me quite a bit of unrest in my life. I am often tired, stressed out and an emotional wreck.

Today I did something I detest. I saw a doctor. My knee has been bothering me for a month and I could not take it any longer. I've done my routine of herbs, stretches, yoga, massage, walking, etc. and no real relief. I hobbled into to see the doc. She massaged, stretched, pulled and yanked my left leg until I felt worse. She briefly touched on Bakers Cyst and arthritis. I explained to her that his was a muscle ache not a bone ache and I surely thought arthritis was bone related. A prescription of muscle relaxants later and I am on the road.

I got in and read what this miracle in a jar could do and said no way am I taking this. I checked online and checked in with my partner and decided that after a nap (I was up way early) I would order Chinese and take the pill.

I settled in as best I could with my knee. Somewhere along the way, I drifted to sleep and this is where it got good.

I was younger and living at home but I still had my daughter, who was still in college, as she is now, when two boys that were working in our yard stole my car (same car I have now). They drove it out of the garage without opening the garage door, backed into the street and pulled off as I was screaming for them to get out and for someone to follow them. I stormed in the house to find my Mother sitting at the table asking me what is wrong. I am frantic and I say that my car has been stolen and I need the phone to call the police. She hands me the phone, my Father comes home with a colleague and I am whining about not even knowing my tag number. My Mother bemoans that my daughter came home this weekend and drove our cars. My Father begs that I take care of the stolen car issue later and when asking about my tag number my Mother hands me a bank statement. I am on the phone with the police department, have been shuffled from one extension to another and finally in disgust, I get someone and tell them I've been on hold and shuffled from one place to another for 30 minutes. Now I get fuzzy, part me thinks I went into the kitchen to fix a little girl a sandwich and I was so distraught a man, looked like Keith Urban came in and was holding me, as I made the sandwich for the demanding little girlbut it didn't seem to bother me. My Mother and the little girl came in and I pulled away from Keith and handed her the sandwich. The little girl looked at me and told me that she didn't like it so I pulled off lettuce and capers and presented the sandwich to her - pepperoni and cheese- a few slices of pepperoni were hanging off and this annoyed her so I pulled them off and popped them in my mouth and jokingly said "I hope this is to your liking, Princess" and we both giggled.

Flashback to me going upstairs to my room. I walked up the stairs and wondered if my room was on that floor or the upper floor. I figured I was the youngest so the room on this floor must have been mine. I stepped in and I remember in the dream saying I wish I could get a picture of this. It was Victorian and I have such a passion for that, in Khaki and crisp white. It was long and huge with a marvelous view out of both windows. One was a tree line street and the other was a spectacular pool. After still being on hold and no resolve, I hung up in frustration and decided to relax, clear my mind and call back.

I've traveled astrally for years and as of late (past couple of years I hate it) but this was a blast. I began to fly around that room and it was really lifting, refreshing and joyful. The floor became water and I took a dive, diving deep and breathing in the water through my nose and my mouth as I swirled and darted. I rose and flew a bit more than landed on the room floor filled with water to find that the water was ankle deep and I was refreshed.

I woke up...wondering, thinking, deciding....the answers come and yes, there is rest for the weary.

Namaste.