Sometimes it sucks to be the eternal optimist. Seems like no matter what the situation, I'm always trying to see the silver lining, the bright side, refusing to let disappointment steal away a moment of life. Ephemeral, precious, never to be taken for granted. I've stated in prior posts my philosophy on life. Most who know me well know how upbeat and positive I am. I guess I should forewarn the reader - this is not your typical "every thing's coming up roses" post.
I don't know if it's the weather (I've even looked at the bright side of that - delighting in the beauty of silvery snowflakes glistening in the street lights, that whole deal), the grim economic news (which I avoid by simply tuning out), or just what. I've just been in a bit of a funk. For weeks now, a funk. I wake up in the morning deficient of enthusiasm. I'm exhausted at the end of the day. Simply said, I just feel sort of empty, which is ridiculous I know because my life is filled with friends and family. But that's just the way I feel lately. That's why I've been a little resistant to blog. I worried that my feelings would spill into my writing. Or that I wouldn't write what I feel thus giving an inauthentic representation.
I'm not saying these things in an attempt to send out a poor me shout. I'll get through it. We women always do, don't we? I just wanted to be honest. To say that I'm sorry to those who check my posts and haven't seen anything new in a while. Every party indeed has a pooper; I just hate it when the pooper happens to be me. And in this case, I'll practice the advice I tend to preach to my sister, my daughters, friends, when they're in a similar state. I'll go within. I'll take care of myself - focus on how to feel better.
I began my ditch the emotional bullshit therapy last night. I spent the past 24 hours with my little Beans, Tyler and Ella. Took a vacation day today and slipped into a time warp. I became quasi-mommy - RaRa to the Beans, and I loved every minute of it. We painted, colored, sung, danced, took walks with our shadows on a gorgeous late winter day. Screw Prozac, just spend a little time with someone under 5 and you'll regain your perspective before you can say "Backyardigans" five times fast. Tomorrow morning when I make my way down to my kitchen the first thing I'll see is the picture Tyler drew of himself along with me and Ella. Us three with big smiles, bright eyes and crazy hair (which actually pretty well resembles the mess on my head). There's no substitute for the good feelings which have come from the time we spent together.
When they left to go home tonight Tyler got that "all saddy" look on his face. He had as much fun as I did, and like me he was sad to say goodbye. And my heart stirs just thinking about how important they are to me, and me to them. My heart honestly, physically stirs.
As people, as women, we maintain an incredible resiliency. We just keep going, keep doing. We get down in the dumps, feel sort of purposeless on occasion. But we take a deep breath. Brush our emotional selves off. And we move on, realizing that what's important, what matters, is our own creation. And we create our emotions too; we're solely responsible for our happiness, our tears, our sense of worth. It's not anyone else's job to pull me out of this funk, but mine alone. It won't take much to turn things around. Especially when I consider my blessings, particularly two named Tyler and Ella.
Thank you Tyler Bean.
Thank you Princess Buttercup.
You made my day.