Monday, March 19, 2012

WHERE IS MY SPRING?

Buds overhead.
My head hit the pillows at about 9 pm last night. While this level of exhaustion does appear from time to time, I rarely succumb to actually going to bed. More usually, I would waste time playing solitaire or watching something, but, as I could barely formulate a sentence, just going to bed seemed like the best option.

I didn't sleep all through the night, of course. The heater is still on, so at least one of my windows is wide open. At about 5 am, I heard, or thought I did, someone, in a nearly conversational tone, asking for 911 to be called. As I was deeply asleep, I waited for subsequent yelling, crying, or some other sign of distress to ascertain whether or not the request was real or my psyche in a panic.

Bench detail.
Much later ...

Well now isn't that interesting? I just saw an ad for a Filippina dating service on my site. One wonders how that might have ended up here. Oh well.

Bucking my usual tradition today, I took a shower and walked to the library before noon. My mood might have improved but my productivity is not particularly awe-inspiring.

I do think getting to bed early is a good thing and now that I look at the time, I realize it is 7:45 pm and I have not yet had dinner. I am sitting in my favorite trashed club chair watching the sunset through the branches of my still-naked tree and listening to Brad Meldhau. Trying trying trying to be of different cheer, to see possibility, to have hope, to find a job. Beating down the walls of what I know and how I do things to see how I might change and find an escape or a transition that puts me in a better place with forward motion and a new perspective.

Where is the sign of my spring?
But for now, food.

Sigh. Yes, I am trying to be good, to be different than I have been in ways that will lead me to be more secure and successful.

Yes. I try to make even a little bit of progress when I just want to disappear or freak out or space out.

I walked.
I returned library books.
I did the dishes.
I watched what I ate.
I did the hand washing.
And yet.
And yet.

There were many signs of spring in the park today. I tried to photograph the beauty of the budding magnolias and the patches of daffodils. I tried to enjoy the light and the air.

But the fear and the dread and the panic are near. And the confusion.

There was a time when I was not so bad. When my self-esteem and self-assurance were a bit higher. When I had confidence and felt I could do anything. I am at a loss as to where I went. And, of course, I feel as if it will never return or even be replaced.

I'm just putting it out there: Hey, Universe? It's time for me. Now.

1 comment:

  1. Even in this place of no seasons (or only two, hot and wet), I get a weird restless sort of spring fever at this time. Your pictures are beautiful. May blessings find you, even though they seem to be busy blessing someone else, someone less worthy than you. Hug the cats for me. Jack's doing a little chirping. I'm resting up for tai chi. I've just spoken of poetry with the writing class. Poetry. Cats. Chirping. These are good things.

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