Get me out of this straight Jacket!
Even though I put myself in it………
One of the gifts of aging is the ability to discern patterns in your own natural rhythm.
The past ten days have been a whirlwind—meetings with local friends, a visit from my out-of-town daughter, and even a day in court to testify on behalf of a friend. Through it all, the momentum of writing never slowed. The ideas were flowing—fast and furious—pulling me forward with their own energy.
Today is not just quiet—it’s dull.
No big epiphanies. No rush of ideas spewing from my mind.
Out loud, I told myself, “I almost feel without purpose.”
And that’s all it took.
All at once, I heard my soul whisper: Go paint. Get back to your paints. Watch the rain. Marvel at the simplicity of gentle raindrops nourishing the earth, preparing it for spring. Consider the bounty of our surroundings, the magnificence of it all.
And here’s the biggie:
I do not have to do anything.
This magic—the rain falling from the sky—doesn’t require my effort. It doesn’t need my heavy lifting. It doesn’t ask anything of me at all.
As I sat with that, the world around me came into clearer view. And I realized: my dull mindset could have become quicksand. I could have sunk into a pity party.
And maybe one day, I’ll write about pity parties—and my time as a development director at a fashionable retirement community in Florida. I learned real fast how to have a pity party… and how not to have one.
But I digress.
The real point here is the rhythm of life.
It is impossible to be on a constant high—to always be brimming with ideas, writing them out, publishing them for the world. What is possible is acknowledging the down times—the slow days, the dull moments—and being okay with them.
Being okay with a dull mind—as temporary as it is—is not easy for me. I fight it with all my might.
And then I laugh.
At myself.
Why on earth would I box myself into a tight jacket of expectations when I rail against the expectations placed upon me by others?
And there it is. The irony of life, hitting me right between the eyes.
So, it’s a rainy day. And with that comes the wonderful opportunity to grab a book, make a pot of soup, bake some cookies—or maybe, just maybe, pick up my paints and start something new.
Or… maybe do nothing at all.
And what about my dreams?
They are like that pile of dishes in the sink—they have very good manners. They don’t mind waiting. They know that when I am rested, when my soul is ready, they will sing out to me:
"Hey, Monica, let’s write about (whatever the subject is)!"
And off I’ll go, fingers flying across the keyboard, pouring out the next post for my dreamers to enjoy.
Until then, I will happily accept this low-energy rhythm of the day.
Because it’s all a gift—even the slow days.
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I hope you are enjoying your tranquil day Monica.