Approval
Dear friend,
It’s a Zara day. She’s wondering when we’ll be having our soup—that being the time she gets her evening chew. She learned to tell the time years ago. I can feel her impatience. There’s the direct mind-to-mind signal, and then her body and facial expressions.
You know the face? Melancholy being a general dog speciality.
I’d a bit of what you’d call a “breakthrough” this morning with Ben, my therapist—where I saw, in my mind’s eye, what felt like a ton of bricks dropping from an undisclosed height.
“Fuck,” I said as the vision bloomed, “I’m realising that everything I do is, in some way—either subtle or not—is me, seeking approval.”
And then you just leave it there. Let whatever wants to come up, be there. And watch it.
I saw a little kid, with a bowl haircut and freckles—part elf, part astral, part human—looking up at the giants all around, trying to read the signals coming off them.
How to fit in?
How to belong?
We mould the clay.
“And I’m still doing it now”—the thought, although a familiar concept, feels fresh and new. An insight. Like an old sunken ship surfacing after decades in the silty ocean bed.
No rushing around thinking this is the answer to everything.
Just wade out of the water, up onto the shore near the rock pools. Silhouetted against the setting sun, watch her heading for the horizon—maybe hum a little tune to yourself. Let nature take its course.
Slow down.
Take a breath and chop carrots.
Which brings me back to the soup.
And the evening chew.
There are many dragon tails whipping around today—energetically speaking.
We’ll all make it through.
We’re moving into a higher frequency globally, and that’s hard. Really hard for many people right now.
Compassion for self, and for others, is a compass which cannot but steer us home.
Though the oceans are fierce.
And the storm batters our senses.
Take heart.
Till tomorrow,
Love
Mikey
