I remember, during my recent flush of energy, fresh from the gym and driving home, thinking "damn, I feel so good right now." It seemed impossible that this feeling of abundance and exuberance would go away, because it felt that I was living in actual reality, as if the sadness which sometimes grips me was an illusory veil that had been triumphantly cast aside. But I knew- I knew as I had the thought that I would look back on this exact moment in the car and chuckle nostalgically- that this momentary bliss would come to an end and I would lose my momentum. The rise and the fall is such a fact of my life.
Well, it took about a week. It took about a week, and a 24 hour flu that tackled Jamba and I to the bed for an entire Tuesday, while the snow fell listless and drearily outside (honestly, the last day of snow that my winter-weary soul can possibly stand) and we took turns getting out of bed to take care of an ebullient and decidedly un-sick Sava. That was a bad day. Nausea just sucks the life out of you. A few days later, I yelled at Jamba over a misunderstanding and it took me an entire week to apologize. A week to start going back to the gym regularly. Then, I put my lovely little sprouts outside on the porch to catch some budding sun, and forgot to bring them in at night. Oh, how I cried at the next day's discovery, in a mixture of sadness and self-loathing. My sourdough starter languished cold and hungry in the fridge while I plowed through three pints of b&j's in as many days.
So, we rise and fall. Seeds planted in a rush of promise and hope need to get taken care of in all moments, and not just at their inception. This is a lesson my Aries soul is constantly grappling with (So good at starting things: not so great at finishing them!)
I am currently doing okay- I am not depressed, but not wildly happy either. I am steadfast: disheartened but resolute. I know to do the things that will eventually restore me to well-being, so I do them: I go to the gym, I pick up the house, I feed my starter, I tackle things on my to-do list without thinking about the big picture. I beat the rugs, I paint, I breathe in the smell of Sava's hair. I can't will myself into a state of bliss, but I can. walk. there.
Mona at the Louvre
3 hours ago