"April come she will
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain;
May, she will stay,
Resting in my arms again."
~Paul Simon
I could blame it on April, but really--eight days in and the grey days/rain haven't been too bad.
Thank goodness!
I'm gloomy enough without the added dreariness of the weather.
Perhaps it's just a brain that needs weeding, just like our flowerbeds.
I haven't been blogging much because of the morose train of thoughts going through my head.
Like what?
Like . . . what would happen if something happened to N and I. Or will we ever be able to take a 2 week vacation again. (Who could've guessed the two of us would be caretakers for our youngest child.)
I imagine all the sad things happening in the world right now aren't helping.
Yeah, gloomy ponderings with no definite answers.
Sorry.
I thought by writing it down it might clear my head a bit.
And now to practice one of the techniques I learned in a great little book, "How to be Sick".
{breathe in the gloom and doom and breathe out an appreciation of spring's beauty}
Thanks for listening.
2 comments:
At the risk of offering a plattitude (something I never want to do) I read this in the same GoogleReader feed with your post, and thought it might resonate with you...giving you permission to be imperfect. =)
Imperfection
Thank you, Keith :)
Accepted and appreciated with the same good warm thoughts you gifted it with.
"Perfection" is a good illustration of the journey of life. I remember being totally unhappy in my skin and life as a youth.
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