For Today - Baby Steps

Many strokes overthrow the tallest oaks. - John Lyly

and

If I slip, I will try again.  Practice makes perfect, and I expect to practice abstinence until I "get it."  What is the alternative? 

It is an encouraging sign to be able to give myself a chance to go back and do things differently, without judgment or self-condemnation.  - For Today

This morning is grey and dry as I watch the ripples of the inlet against the wharves from my hotel room windows.  I am leaving here today -- to go back to my place for hopefully the counter installation.  And then to pack the cat up and travel to my parents' by ferry.  I would rather stay here, really, but they want to see me and it is good for me to get out of my comfort zone a little.  I will enjoy myself enough when I am there.  I am hopeful I can walk my favourite beach, the one I didn't get to walk at Christmas.

I am quietly tired this morning.  Not the proper food yesterday since I ate out all day.  Some stress from seeing the counsellor.  Post traumatic stress disorder -- apparently I have the symptoms.  And, by the way, she is going away for a month, so I need to gather my own resources once again, apparently.  Oh well, there must be a purpose to that.  I am curious about the limited effect anti-depressant drugs seem to have on me.  Is it because depression is only a side effect of PTSD?  Apparently that's common.  What if we have been treating the wrong thing all this time?  For my own sake, I am not going there.

It is better if I can do this one day at a time.  I take what I learn and I use it to the best of my ability today.  I breathe.  I consider what I need and then try to do that.  I work my program.  I try to love myself as I would love a child.  And I try not to concern myself with things I cannot control.

Many strokes overthrow the tallest oaks can be read at least two ways.  I can recover from this hellish demon of an oak if I take many small steps, over and over.  Many strokes.  On the other hand, it has taken many cuts -- over many years -- to fall me to the point I surrender.  That doesn't mean I haven't been strong.  It means I am human.  Or perhaps an oak.  LOL.  Blessed be.