A school of fish

I have started using an app called Lumosity. Perhaps you know it - it's supposed to 'train your brain'. I downloaded it for my Mum but now I have a go now and then as it's quite fun. Today they gave me a game called Playing Koi where you have to feed each fish just once as they swim around. This means you have to keep track of all the fish as they go in all directions and when it gets beyond about eight fish that's no mean feat.

As I was playing it today it seemed a lot like how life gets, with too many wandering fish to keep track of. I got invited to three interviews for next week, all for totally different kinds of jobs, and all in different towns. And, having been on a path of regaining my equilibrium, that seemed to me like too many fish and I could feel, despite my self-affirming thoughts, that my body was responding with rising panic. I have found since my 'incident' on the plane, that trains, planes and generally enclosed spaces make me anxious. So it's as much the approximately 13 hours of journeying over three days, I think, that triggers my anxiety, as the interviews, which I actually don't feel particularly freaked out by. Still, three in three days is I think, more than I can do right now, so I plan to ditch one which, to be fair, is for a job I don't actually want. So that seems sensible. It is too hard to keep three different life scenarios in one's head at one time, I have decided. Too many fish to feed successfully.

The temptation of course is to compare oneself with what other people manage, people who have far more fish than I to keep track of (and who are more than happy to tell you so). But that can't be helped. It is what it is.

Let's instead read this poem by the calming and talented Jan Richardson from her website.

You have looked

at so many doors

with longing,

wondering if your life

lay on the other side. 

For today,

choose the door

that opens

to the inside. 

Travel the most ancient way

of all:

the path that leads you

to the center

of your life. 

No map

but the one

you make yourself. 

No provision

but what you already carry

and the grace that comes

to those who walk

the pilgrim’s way. 

Speak this blessing

as you set out

and watch how

your rhythm slows,

the cadence of the road

drawing you into the pace

that is your own. 

Eat when hungry.

Rest when tired.

Listen to your dreaming.

Welcome detours

as doors deeper in. 

Pray for protection.

Ask for guidance.

Offer gladness

for the gifts that come,

and then

let them go. 

Do not expect

to return

by the same road.

Home is always

by another way,

and you will know it

not by the light

that waits for you 

but by the star

that blazes inside you,

telling you

where you are

is holy

and you are welcome

here.

~ Jan Richardson

image by me