It is Saturday evening and it is a low key day at our house. My partner and I and our son are setting up to play a game we love, Catan, and Jazz is on his forever quest for food we may have dropped on the ground. It has been a great, slow day, I walked Jazz at 6AM and did that mindfully, shared time with one of our favorite people in the world, we spent some time with Ginger, the new addition to our family as of December, made pizza from scratch, read and napped. Bliss. Or not …
There are times when I wake up from my weekend naps with a completely shifted mind. And mood. It seems like someone unplugged me and my energy level went to the dumps. At a conscious level I know my life is amazing and I so appreciate everything we have and we share together. Deep inside there is a heaviness in me that makes every step I want to take ten times harder to initiate. I don’t want to do anything, I don’t want to move, I want to just sit and stare, in the best case scenario, read. Bury myself in it that is. I know this and it knows me, we are old friends.
Whenever the time between bouts of depression or the blues is longer I forget. And it takes me by surprise. And I forget sometimes that questions like “what is wrong now?” or “what the heck is missing in your life?” have no place here. I used to get so scared when I woke up like this and dwell on the unfairness that I found in doing everything right and still getting here. I am helping myself remember – by writing this as well – that this is a wave and I can’t stop it so I might as well not resist it. That riding this wave is all I can do and just stay in the moment as much as I can, focus on whatever it is that I can do. There is no “oh, the morning was so great, I wish I could go back to it!” nor is there any telling of how things will unfold an hour, a day or a month from now. All there is, is the wave riding right now.
I don’t know how much comfort this thought may bring, and I am aware that at a rational level you know it, so just as a reminder: wherever the wave takes you, you are not alone!
thank you Cori, I do know. and this has been one of my saving graces.