I’ve hunted in kombucha bottles, probiotic pills, and high potency vitamins that are bound to do something–I mean, surely I’m missing something on the element table that my body desperately needs to run.
I exercised, I’ve cut out the “bad” things that might be in my diet, and to be honest, if it touted a bacteria that could play with my brain, I ate that yogurt with a side of cottage cheese. My latest attempt at health? Laying in sunlight.
Much like Michelle Schad seeking the voice, strength, and laxatives to get Transcendent out into the world, I’ve done my own searching–generally, splatted to the couch like a too-wet spitball, staring up at the ceiling.
Spoiler alert: I saw a cobweb. It wiggled in some unseen wind, but it gave up no answers, and no energy zapped into my body like a super power. I waited on that couch as long as I could, but no dice.
My spoons refused to come back to me–mental and physical. Man, do I need a dishwasher.
Maybe I need a spiritual awakening. Some guidance. A vacation to a far off place where I can steal spoons from the land, and take mental well-being with me like explorers once carted off gold, only with a less tragic outcome.
So, this is my question–where are my spoons? Will they ever come back to me?
All the love,
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