Last week I got sick. I rarely get sick. My husband says it seems like no one in my family gets sick, we just have good genes like that. But I got a flu that turned me inside out. Fever. Chills. And a dream that I kept changing my clothes, even though everyone was waiting for me to go somewhere. It was like, “Hurry up, we’re gonna be late, just choose an outfit and let’s go already!!!”
As a person who has always paid attention to my dreams, I realized this sickness was transforming me.
The question was: Transforming me into what? A potato? According to the interwebs, a dream about constantly changing clothes means shedding skin and becoming something new. Sounds like a potato, and that’s definitely what I became on the futon in my media loft, binge-watching Netflix/Amazon Prime: Glitter. True Spirit, The Marriage App, The Swimmers, Nate Bergatze, a couple episodes of Harlem Season 2 until I got annoyed by the main character (who reminded me of myself). All the stories got mashed up into my brain (like potatoes), so I shut everything off.
I was exhausted from watching strangers live their lives.
And then I picked up my phone, thinking I should reach out to this or that friend or family member or co-worker, but then I also turned off my phone and became dead to the world. This is very unlike me, the most available person on the planet. I also usually want every single person to know that I am sick so they can call and send me positive vibes and happy thoughts. But I didn’t want that either. In fact, I didn’t just want to turn off my phone, I wanted to delete all my contacts, quit all my work and never, ever communicate with anyone ever again. It was so extreme. Why? Are potatoes hermits? Was I finally peeling off my brown skin and revealing the white potato underneath? LoL
By Friday, when I finally started reaching out to people again, I figured out why I got sick.
I was doing my usual thing of texting and emailing and checking up on everyone and what they’re doing, messaging on Teams and Slack and posting on Instagram and talking on Zoom when I realized I have been spending way more energy supporting others and their stories instead of focusing on my goal. Which goal? The goal of revising a novel. It’s simple math, really, if you think about it in terms of money.
I spent way more money (energy) in January than I earned (received).
I also spent way more energy maintaining one-sided relationships. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve become aware of this. I think I was 33 the first time I woke up. That was the time I came up with my more “energy efficient” way of operating using the seven chakras to keep myself balanced throughout the seven days of the week. And yet, here I am at 47, still falling off balance, suddenly getting sick, because I’m still trying to be supportive of others while I neglect my own dream of what? Revising a novel. Repeat it, sis.
So, today, Valentine’s Day, I am officially taking all the love I give out and refocusing it to my navel. I mean, novel. Ha.
Hmm. It’s hard to do that. Since I “grew up” I’ve felt that my birthday is the only day I am allowed to give myself love. Dumb. But I guess I started this behavior because others told me I was too selfish, too self-absorbed, too self-reflective, too self-referential, too narcissistic, hence all of the behavior above where I give all my energy away to others, in the name of being more giving, more thoughtful, more supportive. I suppose neither way is good or bad. I just know that from now until February 23, I am focusing 90 percent of my energy on revising my novel (gotta leave at least 10 percent for my fam and the daily things that must be done). I am transforming from a wannabe writer (aka couch potato) into a storyteller (aka a beautiful sweet potato).
Sweet potatoes symbolize harmony, nurturing, peace, hope, and faith.
OK. Time to get to get back work. Amen. And you can see progress here, on my Revision 2023 page.