Just one of those days
There are moments when I wish I could roll back the clock and take all the sadness away, but I have the feeling that if I did, the joy would be gone as well.
Nicholas Sparks, A Walk to Remember
Some days are hard. And some days I’m not sure there’s wisdom to be had out of it. Some days I’m beyond being patient with people. Some days I’m so heart-deep tired that I just don’t have a lot of fight left.
This has been one of those days. Little sadnesses. A friend of some years rejecting me for politics he’d known about for years. Another friend misunderstanding something I said and nothing seemed to untangle that misunderstanding. Someone I love not seeming to care about something that should be important to both of us.
I feel a little weepy, but not falling down weepy. I’m not actually desolated – that level of agony is reserved for the losses in my life. It feels mostly like I’m slogging through my time right now instead of levitating through it. And even with today’s challenges, I realize I have more to celebrate than I do to mourn. After all, I have family I adore, doggies who lift my soul, every gift of creativity I could ever have hoped for (although not all of them are precisely at genius level), plus a 106 pound weight loss.
What could possibly be wrong?
This is what I call a dip in my “Dip/Wave Theory of Life.” It’s from another one of my random epiphanies triggered by things that may or may not have anything to do with the topic at hand. In this case, my theory was born while I was watching the movie “The Four Seasons,” where Carol Burnett’s character was explaining that love comes in dips and waves. It struck me at that moment that life does, too.
Right now, the world’s pain hurts more. The pictures of animals caught in the world death industry make me want to start crying and never stop. Hurt children have me howling at the moon. My own sadness, echoed in people I love, sucks at my heart and tries to drag me under. Right now, I’m not a fighter. I’m dog-paddling desperately in pursuit of the ever-elusive land.
Indeed, it’s a dip, but if I have learned anything, it’s that dips are temporary. I don’t expect to be either a long or a deep one. Experience has taught me that the wave always returns. By Friday, my granddaughter’s birthday, I am fully expecting to be riding the wave again – teetering, a bit giddy, cackling wildly with glee as the rushing water bears me to my happy destination. It really just takes patience (and a sense of humor). I just need to wait this out – even just a good sleep might well be enough.
I’m not sure I’ll learn a damned thing from this one, except, maybe, it will reinforce that I generally seem to get through these dips every time. That I do at least recognize that they’re temporary (right up until the moment it isn’t and that’s usually at life’s ending). That I know that I’ll be happy again – even as quickly as from one breath to another. If that counts as wisdom – I’ll take it.
Are you in a dip, too? Just hang on, then, please, and know that the wave will return. Try for patience, even if you don’t have strength for anything else. And do trust me about that sense of humor. A sense of humor is the rudder of the surf board – grab hold of that and you’ll be back on the wave at least a little sooner.