Coming back to work was no easy feat. After a couple of weeks having the time of my life, being fully aligned and living without any restriction, do I have to say that 6:30 wake up call was not welcome? Grumpy, I was up before dawn, in a FML mode. It was bad.
From that moment on, things kept on sucking. I had to rush through breakfast, had no time to binge on PB as I love to do after my bowl of cereal and dressed like a 5-year old kid to face the cold winter to get to work on time. I am no extrovert, and I was dreading the back-from-the-holidays-happy-new-year small talk. I was definitely not in the mood to work, but I found it even worse to sit in an office with no big exciting projects to make the clock tick a bit more faster. The job I usually appreciate for its smooth pace, which gives me enough time to connect and reflect, was suddenly only f*cking boring. By four I was done, but I was exhausted when I got to yoga, which only pissed me off even more. I then rushed throughout the evening, already dreading having to wake up way too early the next morning.
It went on for three days. The same thoughts, over and over again. A self-predictive prophecy that was messing up with my life. Rationally, I knew I had to change my inner talk to something positive, but it seemed like an impossible task. The more I tried, the less I felt I could access my heart and feel any form of gratitude.
Having suffered from multiple episodes of depression, I got scared. What if the thoughts never went away? This thought, added to all the other ones, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. There was no way I could accept that. I gathered all my magical powers and started manifesting hard. Like really really hard.
The thing is that magic doesn’t work that way. You plant the seed, you do the work (which is mostly to get aligned, enjoy the present moment and follow the signs the Universe sends your way) and then eventually she brings you what you asked for. You can’t rush her, and I needed a quick fix. This wasn’t gonna work.