This has been a long, tiring day, the kind where, in spite of my efforts to turn it, was pretty dismal. I’ve had a few of those this week, which is a little disappointing, but am hopeful I can pull the nose up and come in for a smooth landing tomorrow. A while ago I was trying to come up with a new metaphor for how I’ve been feeling for the last little bit. For much of the latter half of 2012 I spoke about taking rides on Mephistopheles the mechanical bull–that my life was crazy and unpredictable, and as Mephisto tossed me up in the air, spun me around, wheeling this way and that trying to unseat me, sending me sailing through the air to land in a heap. Most days I mastered Mephisto, holding on for dear life with one hand while my free hand swung wildly in the air, while I rode out the wild eight seconds required before sailing carefully through the air and landing on my feet or tucking and rolling myself up into a standing position.
Life these days isn’t a ride on the mechanical bull that it was a few months ago–it has evened out a little bit in terms of it’s relative stability and predictability–but it remains a bumpy and unsettled ride. I would shift to a nautical metaphor–one that involves storms and choppy seas before things calm and smooth sailing commences. But sailing metaphors are overdone, whereas the mechanical bull is at least novel. Perhaps I will noodle on my new metaphor while I rest tonight and allow my brain to work on it subconsciously. When I get it, of course I will report it here.
I am grateful for a number of things tonight–most of which I can’t remember at the moment. They are relatively small for the most part. The biggest blessings I received today was the benefit of talking to one of my sisters as I navigated my way home through my evening commute. As I started the drive home I tried listening to music, which often lifts my spirits, but it wasn’t working. I flipped through the rolodex in my head thinking about who I could call and tell about my icky day. This is big for me. Normally, I would keep my feelings to myself and not reach out to anyone. But I found myself wondering, “Who can I talk to? Who can I tell about this?” I felt a bit like Alexander who had the “Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.” Perhaps mine didn’t rise quite to that level, but it was a challenging day to be sure. I was glad to be able to tell my sister at least some of the angst I was experiencing and get advice from her simply about how to manage it.
As the basest level, I needed to hear a kind voice and I got what I needed from my dear sister. I must confess to having had a very brief moment of wishing I could call my mother, who’s been dead for nearly 18 years. It wasn’t that mom always knew the right thing to say about everything, it was simply that at that moment I simply wanted her to be alive again and be available to tell me I will be alright (even though I already know that I am.)
I am grateful to be at the end of the not totally terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Tomorrow is indeed another day and I begin anew with a fresh set of 24 hours and additional mercies and grace of god. It always amazes me that even on days like this, even the slightest glimmer of gratitude still shines through and I am able to find words for it to write into this blog. May this continue to be true.
