sometimes life can be hard. there are always periods that hit you harder than others. jane refers to them as seasons. i like that. the idea that they should last no longer than three months.
this season has been long (longer than three months) and harder over the last couple of weeks. the kind of hard that is perceived as never catching a break. now, don't get me wrong, there are people who have it a lot harder than i, in fact i can think of two right now. but sometimes when reserves are low, tiredness creeps in and everything is magnified. it's true what they say; sometimes things really do feel worse in the dark.
yesterday was a busy and long day. i was told on more than one occasion that i looked tired. last night my smile and pithy response thinly veiled my annoyance at what i thought was stating the obvious and not at all helpful. after a nights sleep i realised it was people genuinely showing care and concern for me and how could i have thought as i did?
it got me thinking.
what else have i missed over the last two weeks? what else have i glossed over whilst caught up in the worry of my own troubles?
the evening i turned up at my sisters house at my nephews bath time. at the shout of "auntie emma" i popped my head round the bathroom door; two enormous toothy (and not so toothy) smiles excitedly greeted me. i saw and felt the love for me.
a work email sent routinely chasing daily business matters. a divergence in conversation complementing my words enabled me to let go of my fear and share this on-line space with my acquaintance. i was bowled over by how my thoughts, expressions and photographs in the land we call blog had touched them, caused them to re-asses what they were doing, resolving to take that well deserved days holiday, it was, after all, their birthday. i experienced overwhelming encouragement.
the night i sat amid tears and finally let go of my worry and asked for help. realising that my independent streak is not always as good a streak as i perceive it to be. i was met with a listening ear, reassurance that they knew how i felt, honest advice and a hug i wanted to melt into and stay there. i was met with kindness, acceptance. of me.
the smile raised as my seven year old niece asked "how old do you have to be to go on telly?" her six year old sister followed the enquiry with "when you are on a tv show do you live in the telly?" i was reminded of the innocence of children, their lack of fear of asking questions. reminding me to stay inquisitive.
jane sharing the post she wrote last week on letting go on the blog that inspired her and i to realise what we were holding onto. i found the blog through a friends activity on facebook (thank you helen). when jane's post was shared there (producing in a spike in our views from the usa) i logged on to like the page. an email of thanks to me for liking, resulting in an email of thanks from me for writing. actions that encouraged us both. i was reminded how a simple act of interaction can cause a chain reaction.
last night i went to choir practice. for the first time we tackled singing in the rain. realising the song is sung as a solo by gene kelly in the film none of us knew the harmony. our pianist patiently drills the part on the piano and sings along with us. did i mention i was tired? this morning, still in the fog of exhaustion, i remember the harmony, well, most of it along with the timing. i am glad i laughed and let go of the tiredness to embrace the moment. i am rewarded by realising that being the sum of the parts can be just as rewarding, if not more so, than standing alone.
what did i miss? that if we let go and are willing to be open to new experiences, work hard when required, be willing to be taught by and to teach others, then maybe, just maybe the backpack we all carry will feel lighter.
tonight i am sat home alone. heating on full blast, i am fully clothed with added jumper and socks under a blanket at my computer. i am shivering but my cheeks and forehead are hot. i know that all i need is an early night and a lot of fluids. but tonight i am grateful that despite a temperature and advancing headache all feels better this evening. i don't have to wait for the morning. the darkness holds no fear tonight.