Time to Hustle

Wouldn't it be grand if we came to this life with a little guidance? Perhaps it could be in the form of a tiny glass vial set in silver inlaid with precious stones that hung around the neck. With little engraving on the back that read "Break Glass in Case of Emergency". Breaking said glass would reveal a small hologram of a beautiful woman in flowing white robes who would say something like "Dearest one, I see you have lost your way. I am here to remind you of your mission. You came here to........"

To....... 

WHAT? 

WAIT!

But, alas, no vial.

No hologram.

No flowing white robes.

Have you ever been on the wrong side of town? The one with the dilapidated buildings and drug dealers and guys looking at you like a pit bull looks at meat? Or the place that makes the skin on the back of your neck crawl. Whenever I have I wasted no time getting out fast. My short legs hustled. I didn't stand there taking in my surroundings. (ok, just a little) I didn't sit on the curb and say 'oh well, I'm here I might as well move on in'. Faced with immediate danger, adrenalin kicks in and I lash out fast. Sometimes stupidly, but I still react.

So why would I be so willing to set up camp in "Glooms-town, USA". Because I can't see the immediate danger? Isn't the constant barrage of self pity, negativity, self bashing just as dangerous as standing in the middle of a dark street in the slums? Sure one attacks the physical self but isn't the emotional self just as vulnerable? And isn't the resulting bad eating habits 'to teach myself a lesson' just as bad to the physical self as a punch in the eye?

Well, I'm cautiously trying to stand up from the gutter in Glooms-town, USA now.

I don't like the stench here.

Perhaps it's time to move. 

 And even though I don't have a cool silver vial hanging from my neck. I know we come with guidance.

Problem is...I'm visual.

And Guidance likes to hide. 

And speaks very softly.