Yesterday I woke up in a funk. I decided, however, that there wasn't anything really the matter. I just felt that nothing was wonderful and clear and peaceful. It was just, in the middle.
I thought about my previous post about the roses, and decided it was an 'in the soil' kind of day. Thinking about soil, I wasn't sad, I wasn't hopeless. I understood that in me and in the universe there was (is) the ability, just as there always is, for happiness and joy and beauty. I just wasn't in it at that particular moment. I felt like all around me was the decay of old petals, but also the potential for new blooms.
Now, this realization took me most of the day, but that's okay. I have a lifetime-plus to work on these things.
I decided to allow myself a day of being in the soil, if that's where I was determined to be. I took the day to lay around, and nap, and flip through magazines, and not do much of anything. By evening-time I tried not to stress about what wasn't getting done, or feel guilt over not being able to just make myself happy.
In the end, though you wouldn't have known from my face or my voice, I felt it had been a decent day. If nothing else, I've learned in reflection. Next time, I hope that with my acceptance of the 'soil state of mind', I will be more at peace and be able to spread that peace around a bit, rather than coming off as grumpy. But, it's okay, it's all a learning process, and I will take this lesson forward to the next day I feel the need to play in the dirt.
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