I Don’t Have an Answer

It is the end of the year, 2021, and I don’t have an answer.

At this time, I usually choose to take time to reflect on the year in general and my life, specifically. How did I fair? Did I accomplish my goals? Did I care for my body, my health, my family, and my friends? Have my priorities shifted? What is important now?

“WOW! What a ride!!”, I’m tempted to exclaim this year! I feel like I’ve been riding the Cannibal or the Manta roller coasters over … and over … and over!

Mid-December has been my traditional time to center myself, to check my Internal Guidance System. I trust my Guidance Center; some call it intuition or that quiet little voice that nudges us forward or back. Some call it Higher Power, or God.

At this very moment, right Now, I’m wondering if I might have a conversation with my Internal Guidance Center.

I’m wondering if I Am a conspiracy theorist, a True Believer that my Country is flying apart at the seams, that young Americans really have been (over the past twenty years) conditioned toward Socialism, that The Vaccine is about control of people’s will and the population overall, and that I can no longer trust the government.

There was a time in my Life when I lost Me. I allowed myself to be controlled by another. I allowed myself to be so controlled and conditioned that I no longer knew what I thought, which were my opinions and which were the regurgitation of someone else’s words and beliefs.

Back then, almost twenty years ago, I put myself in a self-imposed Repair Shop. I knew that if I didn’t change, nothing would change. I hired coaches and counselors. I read books, took classes, participated in webinars. I embraced every means of personal growth I could uncover. And, I excavated Me. I grew into my Authentic Self. I learned to speak my Truth.

And now, I find myself at an uncomfortably similar Place. I realize that part of my frustration in checking my Internal Guidance Center this year is the all too familiar feeling of being controlled, of feeling like I have to carefully be politically correct, and that I sometimes fear speaking my Truth.

My Foundation is that I am a seventy-one-year-old woman. My Dad was proud to have served in World War 2. I remember bomb…