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I've been "down" the past week or so. That's not to say anything is wrong in my life or the life of anyone I know and love. That's not to say I'm sad, or sorrowful, or near tears.
Maybe it's the four days of gray skies and rain and the prospect of a cold dull winter. It could be the routine of life, not being able to tell one day from another. It could be the leaves falling off the trees, the flowers dropping in the front yard.
It's not that I don't have friends, or that I don't love my husband. It's not that I don't smile or even laugh sometimes. It's not that I'm not interested in the book I'm reading, or what my newsvine friends are writing about. It's not that I can't see the details around me--the ice on the windshield, the rush of the wind.
There's a sense of waiting. Feeling the thump of my heart. Imagining the fleeting movement at the edge of my sight. There's the stillness. My breath, in and out. Sit. Breathe. There's the trying to remember the dream I had last night, the night before and the night before that. Just a glimpse, a reaching out, but only the edge of what it was, what it meant, what it felt like.
The pendulum always swings and I know that within days I'll be in a very different place. I'll feel more secure, more encouraged and also encouraging. I'll look forward to the next step and the next.
Right now, though, I'm here, in this gray flat place, waiting for ecstacy.
You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait. Do not even wait, be quite still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice. It will roll in ecstacy at your feet. [Franz Kafka]
