16 March 2011

the flu

My life is good.

I love and I am loved. I have faith and health. I'm happily married. My kids are great. I live a simple life. I have a handful of really good friends. I have time and words and a job. I spend minimal energy with folks I don't care for. I can read, and I do. I have a roof over my head and access to clean water, heat, yoga and oatmeal.

So, why do I feel down?

I have been under the weather --  fighting something strong for the last few days; I think it is more than this flu.

Spring is around the corner, and with its imminent return, I've heard early birds sing and uncovered tiny budding blooms. Patches of sunshine and longer days are pushing through gray skies and long nights, yet thick clouds persist. These last few days, the rain has been heavy and hard. Not today though.

Paul is out of town and the kids are at school. I'm over-churched, I miss my sister and my friends. I miss my parents, my passion and my brother. My head is throbbing and my stomach hurts. I'm not teaching much any more -- I'm both glad and sad about it. I'm thirty-four and still unsure what I want to be when I grow up.

I'm settled in my favorite chair with my rice pillow, my laptop and my favorite blanket. My house is still. I feel warm. And tired. The season is changing. The world is shifting. As am I. So when the job goes away, the health fails, the body softens, the sky sobs and those whom I love are elsewhere... then what? When the earth quakes and markets crash and people die and marriages end, what then?

Tomorrow.

Every day can't be sunshine and knowing and being known. Sometimes it rains. Sometimes it fucking rains. And some days -- in spite of all the good -- I feel like crying too. So I do. And it helps.

And today, even though I'm unsettled and I don't feel well, I know my life is good.

2 comments:

Abi T. said...

p.s. please don't worry or freak out... I'm fine. Love you.

Leah said...

I love you Abi T.
You are an amazing sentient being.
I'm sending you love and healing vibes.
Here is a poem for you:
"Spring is sprung don't step in dung."
-L.H. '11