DAY FOUR: The Sky is Falling, The Sky is Falling?

People are saying, "What are you going to do when you lose your job?" and I know they are talking about the budget cuts. Everyone feels the balloons are bursting. The "Up" house will never lift. And it used to be floating.
The distress is palpable. Reminds me of how we were glued to tellies after September 11th. We were nested in our reptilian brains, repeating what the news reports told us, using words like lozenges to comfort ourselves.
How far is any soul from a mother's breast, after all?
In my mind, I am a skinny little kid who has run away from home. Elated and dizzy, always hungry, not thinking, I run toward the next light, not wanting to wait for the green.
I am so tired of clinging and weeping, mourning, worrying, feeling that anxious sense of impending loss.
We can't live on tears. We can't live on hugs either. There has to be a place within where the balloon floats, where the string to hold it, is within reach. There has to be a way of letting go that celebrates flight, even knowing that, going against gravity, reaching for the sky, there will be breakage.
There has to be something to look forward to. Even with all of the scary stuff out there.
I say, "One job lost just means another to be found. I got stuff to do. So, please don't worry about me. I am gonna be ok."
You will be, too.
I really think so.