It's just one of those days. I'm not even sure what that means, because they don't happen often, and it's not the most familiar. And when I hear the expression "one of those days" I think of frequency and or familiarity. But nonetheless, here it is.
Everything is going to make me cry. Everything. I feel like I might be in need of a good cry, although there's no specific reason. Maybe it's just my extreme sensitivity. Sometimes just existing and being and feeling adds up. I think there's some goo I need to cry out. I'm sure I'd feel better if I did, but I just don't want to. I'm on a walk, and I don't want to cry right now.
I should have known. I should have known I was a little overloaded when I began this walk and I started wondering if you can be truly present while moving. Could I tune in and check in as deeply as I might need to while on this walk? There it was. The call to check in and just be.
I stop to take a picture of some yellow flowers I've been meaning to get a shot of all week. I keep walking. I am trying to figure out what way I'm going to continue home. I realize I can't go around a certain block after all, this needs to be a straight shot home. For some reason, the thought of going around a this certain block and approaching home from a certain angle pierces me. Something is triggered, and I am gulping down a sob, and I just can't. I don't know why.
When I get home I still want to be outside, so I grab my purse and I decide to take a little drive to get a coffee. When I pull up to the window I know I can't linger long and I hope this goes quick. The girl that greets me is so young. So, so young and happy and perfect. Again, I want to cry. I don't know why. Was I ever that young? And happy? And perfect? She's so brand new. I'm pierced deeply for the second time today, but I can't stop looking at her and wondering what it's in store for her and who I used to be when I was that age, and how magic and fleeting and easy it all is when you're still a kid.
Maybe I'm a little bogged down today. Life adds up, doesn't it? Each year. Each trauma. Each experience. Each day. Some days maybe it just weighs a little heavier. Some days maybe you just want to be five years old and not be responsible for one damn thing.
What's bothering me? Am I creating something out of nothing because we tend to do that when we're happy? Because our tiny human brains can't fathom for too long that it's okay to be okay and so we start to stir up when we should let all be still? Or do I have a bit of sadness deep down inside that I haven't quite worked through yet? The kind that has been on pause while I've been busy with life. All of the above, I guess.
I saw a patio chair on my walk that also made me sad. I recognized it from a past life, and there was only one and there was nobody in it and when I made another loop and saw it a second time it hurt even more. I briefly let myself consider what the other me's chose in other timelines, where they would be now. Just briefly, though. I just can't linger today.
I'm not sure what else to say, I suppose I just wanted to get some of the goo out. Maybe now I'll feel a little lighter. So that's me. That's me today. Here I am. And here are the flowers.