Chronic Pain & Sweet Insults

January 11

I woke up at five this morning with a terrible neck ache. Again. I’d had it most of the night, drifting in and out of sleep, trying to get comfortable. So when five came around, I got up to do a Google search on the spiritual or energy meaning of neck pain. My eyes were really sensitive to the screen light, so I had to turn the brightness way down. More than normal.

I found a few interesting tidbits in my search. One “expert” claimed that neck pain means that you believe you made a mistake in your past and haven’t forgiven yourself, that you judge yourself harshly. Yet another says it is from refusing to see another side of an argument, being stubborn, inflexible.

Which of these could apply in my case? All of the above, if am to be honest. Although, I don’t really resonate with the refusal to see another side of the argument. Mostly because I don’t really argue with anyone. Except myself, perhaps.

Maybe this chronic neck issue comes from the conflicts I am feeling internally. Hah. Can you feel a conflict externally? Isn’t feeling by definition inside you? Sorry, just distracting myself.

I am chronically in conflict about my job. I work when I want, do what I want and it is the hardest job I have ever had because I work for my Dad. What happens if I screw up? With the personnel, with the finances, with all the crappy regulations the government is putting into place?

I have released a lot of what used to stress me out about the job – mainly dealing with staff. I would prefer to agree with them on what they need to do and then leave them to it. That is how I work. I can’t stand having someone looking over my shoulder.

It seems that over time, if no one is watching, people in general tend to get lazy. Procedures that have been set up get changed without authorization, some just stop getting done because they are difficult or uncomfortable.

It ticks me off when a staff member does something that makes me have to step in and deal with them. I don’t like telling people things they don’t want to hear. And to be honest, I’m not the most tactful person on the planet. I tend to be blunt, a reaction from growing up in a passive aggressive household. Or so I think, anyway.

I once watched a dear friend skillful and sweetly tell an RV park manager that he was discriminating against families. She was very nice about it and she got what she wanted out of him. It was an amazing thing to see. He wasn’t even pissed off. Of course, he was a bit dopey, so perhaps he just didn’t understand he was being insulted. But she was telling the truth.

I don’t know. When I was in fifth grade, painfully shy, bullied by the boys in my class, I realized that being nice wasn’t getting me anywhere, so I vowed to change. I spoke up, I wasn’t going to be that nice girl anymore. That is a hard habit to change and even harder to change back.

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