Yesterday was tough. It would be easy to blame it on the weather, but it was really a series of bad choices, with a lack of good weather to brighten and make up for them.
Small, small steps...
the wrong direction.
No doubt, some of it was getting the tooth pulled and having to recover. But some of it was what I chose to dwell upon. I know better, too. In winter, when the days are gray and short, we have to be aggressive about pursuing joy, and avoiding that line between.
I woke up ready to change directions and run towards whatever is good--far, far away from the line.
To start, I spent less time reading my phone and drinking coffee and got right down to a guided meditation (it was about not allowing past choices to affect this moment). I meditated, prayed, and then walked on the treadmill. While walking, I watched a show about NDE's--Near Death Experiences. (As I continued my day, the stories and research provided something positive to dwell upon--and to discuss with my husband during our hike.)
But I had errands to run, so I showered, dressed, and headed out.
Something interesting happened on my errands. I had a pickup at the first store, and I donned my mask for it. But the second store, Lowes, where I was sent to get supplies for the shower project, I somehow forgot my mask and had NO CLUE the entire time I was there. No one looked at me like, OH NO, it's an ANTI-masker! Shame! Shame!
I got zero looks.
I didn't even realize I was maskless until I returned to my car and saw my mask laying there on the seat. I touched my face and just went NOOOO!! Then, on the way home, I reflected back on the above--what does it mean that no one looked at my masklessness or made a big deal of it? Are we in some new stage of this process? ...did I remember to wash my hands?....am I going to get Covid?!?
While I was there shopping...maskless...I couldn't find what I was sent to get, but like Jack and the Beanstalk, I did find this...(Jack's mother must have sent him out to sell the cow in February.)
Flamingo-Lily. or Painter's-pallette. Or Tailflower. It will join my other February blues purchases from years past. I have 3 now: Calla lily, a palm, and this flamingo-lily.
I've been able to get a few hikes in per week, and when I finished my errands, I asked my husband if he'd like to go on another. I wasn't really feeling it, but I knew it would be helpful to get distance from that line. Of course, he absolutely wanted to go. He has the February blues, too, but doesn't talk about it.
Off we went to the Pinebluff trailhead, where I have ridden my horses many, many, many times, and the memories of them--Cowboy, especially--flooded over me at each snow-covered corner.
Oh, the times we've been up and down this little hill, adjacent to the now quiet, dry Deep Creek (below is the quiet creed bed.)