I got a rash. The doctor declared it dermatitis. I was indignant, I don’t skin irritations… why do I have a skin irritation? What is this nonsense?
And I was itchy. Really, really itchy.
A little detective work (Googling) lead me to the conclusion I was reacting to the naphthalene flakes being used en mass in my temporary residence. The doctor confirmed it. You see lovers, I’m in between Manors and until my new one is made suitable for habitation, I was guesting with Grandma Flamingo. She was kind enough to let me stay in her guest room – that normally only houses the antique fur coats of her mother’s (Olga) and assorted important documents from eons ago. To encourage the moths to dine at Sizzler and not at Olga’s House of Fur Coats & Ribs, she’s laced the cupboards with naphthalene flakes.
Evidently, I too was to be discouraged from eating at Olga’s Fur Coats & Ribs because I broke out a quite inflamed rash on my arms after just one evening in the room. I’ve now relocated to another guest room of a dear friend (which is quite fortuitous, as she’s on feather boa watch). The nasty rash is now clearing thank goodness, and I’ve had time to contemplate this further. A rash is never a just a rash. Our bodies reveal more than we care to acknowledge. Further investigations, this time with Louise Hay’s Heal Your Body book, suggested it was probable I was experiencing irritation over delays.
It’s true, I am. Living out of boxes was only ‘cute-nomad’ for about four hours. And I am so bursting with anticipation of play decorator at the new Manor, that staying anywhere in the middle is grating (though better with the cream, thank you). I want in. Now. This in-between feels like I’m walking into a glass door repeatedly. I see the next step, but I have to wait. Apparently.
In response to my exasperation, Cosmos raised it’s manicured brow at me and said ‘I have told you numerous times lady-love, I am handling this for you. Would you please just sit down and trust me?’.
‘But Cosmos, but but but….’ And then, my persisting impatience (facilitated by naphthalene flakes) gave me a rash.
It’s always challenging to just let go and open up to the stream isn’t it? Wait, when things are laid out for us. Whether it’s exuberance or impatience, we want to rush out and get our sticky jam hands on everything and force them. Especially when the path is moving quickly and in the right direction. “What do you mean wait? I want to go, go goooooo!”
Sudden rest stops are nothing but a pesky inconvenience aren’t they? They’re about as appealing as broken shortbread in your tea, holding up the party while you fish it out. It seems like a pain at the time, but sometimes you need these delays and wee obstacles to pause, rest and review to take stock. To see how quickly you leapt ahead or because something massive is on the way – and you’re being given time to prepare. Or maybe you’re in need of a bit of a sneaky redirect?
How often are you handed a bit of down time with your flock to regroup? Yep. Pit stops are necessary, especially when you’ve been swept up by your thing and it’s taken on it’s own life. Trust me when I say: impatience, and resisting the moment causes frown lines and… really itchy rashes.
My vote: Embrace your in between times lovers. Find a comfy spot (preferably sans moth balls, to be safe) and settle in while you have the opportunity. Sure as anything, when you’re due to step up again, it’s going to be wildly hectic. And you’re going to be mighty thankful you had time to have a leisurely spell with your flock.
What do you think lovers? When have you resisted rest? Or had your body react to your choices? I would love to hear about it.
Yours in Nonsense,
Sir Flamingo xo
P.S. Maybe you know someone else breaking out in a resistance rash? Pass this on, and we can be itchy together.