Juju Attack

When I wake up with a sniffle, I pop a zinc tablet. When I wake up with a bit of the bad juju, I panic. 

 

I know the juju when it hits me. My heart pounds; a troubling thought translates into more troubling thoughts. A vortex of worry cyclones though me. Brain to heart to belly, brain to heart to belly, brain to heart to belly. 

I'm no guru. I do not blissfully wallow in the place of peaceful transcendence where gurus hang out. My
consciousness has not evolved to the point where anger and confusion hover gently in the distance. The juju infects my consciousness and spreads. The harder I fight, the stronger it takes hold.

Breathing helps. Acceptance helps. It will run its course when it's good and damn ready.