Proof you're still on the planet.
Now gather up unto yourself with any symbolic gesture of your choice all your scattered energy. Energy wants to gather and refine itself optimally anyway so will be glad to help you out with this.
Get the sense of gathering all the disparate bits of your soul, all the hurt bits, the frightened bits, the angry bits, the disappointed bits, the inadequate bits, the complex bits and every other kind of bit of you, and drawing it all back into your core, nestle it in your back, watch it from the back of your brain with your heart wide open up front, and bear silent witness to an inbound flurry of unprecedented good fortune to corroborate you stratagem.
Then reinforce this new habit of saying it'll work out by saying it'll work out 108 times – which just to clarify because you never know these days, means saying it 108 times not that it all only work out 108 times more.
It'll work out It'll work out It'll work out It'll work out It'll work out It'll work out It'll work out It'll work out It'll work out... 108 times
And to compound it and propel its working out to the next stage, say 18 times at once, 'everything works to my advantage'.
And it will.
If I've managed to convey the gist of it, and if you've managed to follow all that with enough enjoyment to have reached this sacred point of just-before-the-end (of the piece not the world), I've a sense you're already feeling the uplift from it – in a palpable visceral way.
Am I right?
And am I also right you're now feeling that 'it'll work out' ready to pounce on the world before any further worry-thought can take hold?
Whether I am or not, you'll find within days if not hours that even just by having participated through the simple act of reading these words, the magic required has already been set irrevocably in motion and whether you like it or not, things will start working out way better for you.
However what if the what-ifs are so loud you find you can't quell the tumult like that? Then you simply face the fear, you play the movie out in the head and no matter how awful the scenario you see, even if what you see is it all ending in tears and you dead as a dodo or battery-less dildo even, or worse even dead because of one, and as paradoxical as it seems, you say, “I vow nothing will spoil my delight in simply being alive, even this”.
And it's not even a wish, I just know it.
With my love, Brother Barefoot