Untitled

It's been a while.  Creative efforts ball themselves up on paper whilst I cry, pine and wonder where it is exactly that I've gone wrong.  Could it be that those morose meanderings I've taken regarding all the health concerns that have cropped up lately have finally taken their toll?  That those beastly little rabbit trails that I've traipsed down in anxious agitation, wondering if I've contracted some horrible malady or terminal ill have finally done in my spirit, my spunk?  It certainly feels that way, officer.

Jumbles of neurons on speed transmit the very worst scenarios onto my screen.  Images crawling ever closer like zombies on a mission, threaten and menace me with their fat, ready fists.  Responding oh so willingly to the gloomy mob of musings that blows up my mind, and future tripping in the worst possible way, I've parked it on row 17 in the theater of my head.  Eating popcorn, I'm entirely lost in the drama, forgetting that it's only a show.  Based on a true story, yes, but a show.

When I look at it this way, I can't help but think that my psychological destiny lies entirely in my own hands.  Yes, things happen.  Issues crop up, and problems inch their ugly faces into the picture refusing to be ignored, that is a given.  But attitude, who controls that?  Is it not us, with the power to think, to process and analyze?  And what of those of us with faith, who believe in a God who heals and restores, shouldn't we be resting in the knowledge that somehow, someway, it will all work out?  After all, isn't that's what faith is for?

As I ponder these words, I'm relieved to discover that peace lies in my choice of thoughts, in aligning myself with Divine truth, and not in being a ready victim to every whim of my technicolor imagination, nor random frolic through the poppy fields of my mind.

No, my future emotional health depends on how I decide to view circumstance, so let me choose wisely, and let me choose well.