Quickie on the prompt: When I stop my momentum, I…

When I stop my momentum,,,

I am eating my own body, inhaling too much my breath, fighting feeling death.

I am shrouded in fear and doubt, engulfed in some idea of not good enough, never get there, the doors are closed and it’s just too late.

I am convinced I do not have what it takes and I never have before and never will. I had it once, didn’t know it, or knew it and turned a blind eye, but I blew the opportunity through a deep-seated fault I picked up as a baby, toddler, teen or in my insanely wild twenties. A past life?

I never believed in momentum because it stands in the way of reality, opposes the natural cycle of life where momentum is only temporary . Sooner or later the pendulum rests, the market corrects itself, and momentum reaches a stasis; it is normal to reach this point, this pause, only because momentum always does, so it’s natural.

It is never a good idea to blind trust momentum, except in the short term. We must redirect ourselves, move into new, even strange habits to get “back on track” with whatever we thought we were aiming for, or to simply construct a new track. Either the aim was short of value within our own hearts, or we hit a block that looks too hard, too painful, too high a climb for us to try.

I do not stop my momentum; my momentum stops me; it wears out, gets old and dies on the vine. It is not mine to stop but to notice and to recast in a new light and to patiently wait for that new insight, tiny shaft of light and awareness to open up so I can come back to myself stronger and more flexible, more fluid and resilient, more willing to recreate a new energy to use until that momentum (predictably) dies.

And that’s all she wrote. Momentum, schmoementum.

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