Not sure if this is a funk that I am in today. I don’t want to go and do the things I have to do. Today feels different than the days where I cannot face the day. Those dark stormy days. This is a completely different texture; I just don’t want to go to the grocery store, or tic the boxes off my to-do list. I want to curl up and…. well be curled up.
The sun is leaking into my living room, my pup is stretched out at my feet, I can hear her soft snores. My coffee cup is still warm. I feel relaxed, like I am beating within the natural rhythm of this day.
How much of this kind of time did I used to have, before trauma over took my life? What did I do with my mornings after I took the kids to school? The memories of that time are bright with laughter and lack shape, they smell of warm bread, craft paints and tomato plants.
I think I read books and puttered around my house. I think I had actual down time. I know that I enjoyed hobbies that have fallen to the waysides of my life now.
It is odd to look back and think, to remember ….
Even odder still to realise that I have forgotten how to just be. So long now I have been running. Revved up in survival mode, running from one moment to the next, stopping only long enough to take big gulping breaths of tight air. Striving each day to make lemonade out of all these damn lemons.
I think I have forgotten how to just be.
So today I’m gonna through my keep-busy-list into the fuck-it bucket. So I can get some practice relaxing.
Diary of the Phoenix 