Where does that leave me?

Last year when I went to my mean doctor, I told her I was ready to feel better.  After the P.O.G. (Parade of Grief) where we lost 3 parents in a year, it took me a year to start feeling more like myself. But that day, when I went to the mean doctor I was sure it was still the grief that was dragging me down.  Her response was that it probably wasn’t grief anymore, it was just that I was getting old.

Great.  I began to despair that there was a solution for my problem, since let’s get real – I was only going to keep getting older, right?  The thing is, I really miss my mind.  I miss being sparkly.  I miss the energy I used to have to conquer the world and stay on top of things.  I get that I am aging, but I really, really want all that back.  There is a chance, of course, that I am tired, or sick, or sad and that is why I am no so shiny anymore, so I continue to evaluate ways to get back in the proverbial saddle – exercise, giving, seeing my friends, eating, taking vitamins, etc.

Overall, the problem is that I love the idea of starting something new, but I often lack the resolve to continue.  The blog was a noteworthy exception – even when I was tired, I was blogging in my head all day.  I came home, and wrote.  I got better at it.  I continued to find interesting things (at least to me) in the world.  I suppose you could argue I was more fun because I was flat out trying harder. 

The girls told me the other day our lives were more fun when I was blogging.  I was a better writer, and speaker, and citizen, I think, too.  Certainly, blogging isn’t responsible for all that.  But I guess even though I have enjoyed my silence, I have enjoyed being a private citizen and my kids have appreciated having secrets, I am going to give it one more try. 

I am going to try and chat about things that bring me happiness, and I will start with this:

This week when Grace and I were driving to girl scouts, as I sat at a stop light we heard this noise, over the engine, over the radio.  I turned off the radio, and still, the sound.  I rolled down the window, and there, right outside the passenger window, was a tree.  The tree was full of hundreds and hundreds of birds, singing and tweeting so loudly, that we could hear it over all the noise of regular world.  It was so exciting, because it was like our secret.  Our little tree.  If you weren’t stopped at the light, right next to it, fourth in line, you would never have heard it.  You would never have known.  And I needed that reminder. There are so many things to marvel at in the world, and so many little things that can bring us joy.  Sometimes you have to be in the right place at the right time, but you also have to be willing to turn off the radio and roll down the window.  I’m glad I did.

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