“We all get lost once in a while, sometimes by choice, sometimes due to forces beyond our control.
When we learn what it is our soul needs to learn, the path presents itself.
Sometimes we see the way out but wander further and deeper despite ourselves;
the fear, the anger or the sadness preventing us returning. Sometimes we prefer to be lost and wandering, sometimes it's easier. Sometimes we find our own way out.
But regardless, always, we are found.” ― Cecelia Ahern
It's been quiet here. I haven't known what to write these last few days.
I took photos of the homemade macaroni and cheese in a pretty dish to show you that I was productive. I took photos of Millie on one of our daily walks to show you that she was happy. I took photos of Sky and Millie sitting on a swing at the park to show you how sweet they look together. I took a photo of myself and I smiled.
I don't feel like posting them yet, though. My heart isn't in it. I'm not sure what has been happening the past several days, but it's some sort of sadness that isn't passing. Nothing monumental has gone on, and maybe that is the problem itself. Sky and I are doing well. Millie is doing well. I should be happy today.
Instead, I'm accumulating days of staring into the mirror until the tears form. They have been the kind of days where a small, solitary thing can bring on that type of heavy discouragement that catches in your throat and stays there. Where one comment or one joke that would normally be meaningless suddenly has so much weight to it. Where everything is personal. Where everything is unsettling. Where no outfit looks right no matter how many times I change, where no hairstyle looks better no matter how many ways I brush it, and where no molehills become anything less than staggering mountains.
There is something that has been heavy on my heart for months, and maybe the pressure has kept it from oxygen. Maybe it's several bits in my life that are added up in my mind to insurmountable things. Maybe it's not that at all, and it's just one of those moods that has to be lived through until it's over. It's hard to explain how nothing is truly wrong in my life, but feels that way. All I know is that I would feel silly blogging the lightness of all my photos when I can't even appreciate them right now.
I blogged just days ago about how sadness can birth good things, productive things, and I am hoping that this is one of those times and not something bigger. I suppose this my confessional- my explanation for a lack of words this week. There is no crisis, no emergency that is life or death. There is just March, quietly going out like a lamb, and a lingering unrest.
I hope so much for spring's newness and growth to sink in soon.