Today is one of those days. I can’t feel peppy for the life of me. My heart feels all tied up.
I tried to write a blog about being extraordinary, but I fell asleep while reading it. I should have sent it to a sleep disorder clinic.
Maybe this is because my husband started his chemo maintenance program this morning – just four treatments – but it somehow pulled me backwards into more stressful times. You know, when you’re sure you’re handling everything beautifully until your heartburn wakes you up at 3:00 a.m.
I’m agitated today. Nervous, like Tom Cruise being interviewed. Give me a couch, and I just might jump on it.
I tried walking outside and was joined by a couple of crows that talked to me non-stop along the way. Normally, that makes me smile. But not today. They were probably doing their best comedy routine and I was scowling and sweating.
I feel like I should shape up . . .
Sometimes gray days make me feel guilty. I feel like I should be thanking God that Neil is still with me, and that we have a great home and way too much good food. I should thank the birds for accompanying me during my walk (except for the mockingbird who dove at my head repeatedly).
But, instead, I am acknowledging that some days I just need to be blah. Instead of searching for the light, I need to stare into the fog and see what I find.
Perhaps it is there that I will receive an epiphany (I would like to let God know that I do not want a burning bush, because I still have hot flashes).
Maybe we over-estimate epiphanies . . .
It seems that as a society we think everyday should be sunshine and smiles – that all of life must be a place where troubles melt like lemon drops.
I think there’s a reason that place is somewhere over the rainbow.
In real life, there are times when we have to stroll into our darkness and reflect how we got here, what it is that bothers us, and how to move forward when the way isn’t well lit.
Maybe that’s when faith is developed, as we learn to take one step at a time, because that’s all we can see.
So, I’m not going to do any motivational chants today. But I am paying homage to all of us who have gray days.
Here’s a toast to crows, to silence, to agitation, and to fear. Here’s to not having answers and crying alone. Here’s to screaming into our pillows and pacing across the floor.
Here’s to the ugh-li-ness of life, when we are forced to dive deeply into a collective soul, face the darkness, and melt right into it. Because it’s there that we learn to let go. To sigh. And to release control to something bigger than us.
Here’s to courage.
Here’s to us.