When the torch gets heavy
Every moment of every day we get to decide who’s calling the shots in our response-o-meter.
It’s important to know that refusing to decide is the same as making a decision. I know that might sound odd, but life will gladly press the default button and decide for us if we don’t make it clear we are purposefully choosing another option.
Nowhere do I feel this more keenly than when I am faced with an environment of heaviness and negativity.
In case you’ve not noticed, that junk is contagious.
It usually starts with a Cranky McCrankerson or a Debbie Downer who is having trouble finding a little spot of sunshine. They’re walking around in a cloud of grump-funk, spreading stink. It can be a challenge to remain unaffected. If you’re not intentional about keeping some emotional margin from that sort of mess, you’ll usually find yourself covered up with it sooner or later.
You have to be determined to close your ears to the ‘tude and climb above the grump-funk line.
Hope and joy are stronger than grump-funk. So is love. They really are. But only if they’re released and employed. Only if someone purposefully decides that they will carry them into the dark cloud and let them shine.
Shining isn’t the path of least resistance. It is, however, a force that can totally dismantle the cloud and transform the atmosphere.
I have to keep reminding myself of that. I have to remember who I am. Some days it’s a drag to push back. I get tired and sometimes I’m battling my own cloud, with no tolerance for anyone else’s.
I can’t give that any room to operate. Neither can you. We can’t give our feelings during any given moment the power to boss us around. Hand them the reins, and you know you’re gonna be on a runaway wagon in nothing flat.
I am a Light-worker. And that means something.