Day 176: The State Of My Union

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I’ve not been feeling well and therefore I have not written a post in days.

It’s hard to be creative when your body is fighting something. And the boxer in me is in the ring with a hooded germ that refuses to show its face.

Today, I am trying to will myself to feel better because so much of our state of body has so much to do with our state of mind. Those two, mind and body, are by far the most perfect union.

I’m regulating my breathing, taking deep, meaningful breaths that nourish my lungs with a much needed oxygen to propel my muscles and bones to charge on ahead and move forward.

I’ve consumed the cure all of all that ails: chicken soup. There is nothing more empowering than a bowl of hearty chicken broth seasoned with the right veggies and the nourishing power of fowl. Yesterday’s bowl at dinner was enough to give me enough comfort so I could rest peacefully.

So I woke up today, after a somewhat peaceful meeting with the slumber Lords, feeling much more refreshed. Off to the shower I rushed where the steaming hot water was a welcomed friend after a night where my body temperature fluctuated between various ranges of the thermostat – cold, hot, warm, clammy, freezing and everything in between. I’m washing the illness away, baptized by these healing waters emanating from my rain shower head.

Clean, crisp white shirt and dress pants on, I am off to face my breakfast before I head out to work.

Still refreshed and excited to be feeling better, I embark on my journey toward the toils and trouble of my day. As I leave the gas station after filling my car’s tank with fuel, my head is feeling a little heavy and the chills are making their way back – almost like a preview announcing they will soon be here for good (again).

I get to work and I literally, get to work, perusing my overdue to do list returning calls, etc.

The headache is back and breakfast has not seen the welcome mat at my stomach’s door.

I will not give in to this unwelcomed visitor, this culprit who is trying so diligently to spoil my energy and my tenacity to be results driven.

He’s shown himself – full blown exposure – making my eyelids heavy, tickling my throat and cajoling my nose to sneeze periodically.

I’m back in the ring. My boxing gloves are on and I’m ready to fight. Get out of my day, get out of my way and get out of my life.

You cannot and will not win.

You are illness.

I am cure.

My body and mind are in this ring with you and you may have the power to beat me up, but you will not disrupt the state of my union.

Any questions?

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