Seeing the good when there is none

This is a note to myself, as I've been struggling lately.
I'm finding it can be hard, even when trying to be mindful and in the present moment, to feel the good in truly crappy moments. Sometimes the present moment sucks. Sometimes everything hurts and it's raining outside and your kids won't stop yelling at each other. It can feel like stopping to smell the roses, so to speak, is impossible. And that even if it weren't it wouldn't solve a thing.

We might be able to convince ourselves the problem is a matter of optimism vs. pessimism, and just decide to feel better and more optimistic. Maybe we've been seeing the thorns instead of the rose, to continue to use the same example. By just deciding to ignore the thorns, we may be able enjoy the beauty of the rose.

Other times we may search out the rose. We may have to take a break from the inside and cooking dinner and yelling children and go outside and find a place to be quiet and still. Taking this break, we may be able to see the way the stem supports the unfolding blossom, the way the leaves spread to the sun and the water droplets slide delicately down to the roots. Maybe we can even see the fallen petals, decaying into the soil to feed the next flower. We can decide to seek out and take this break.

But sometimes it's even tougher than that. We can't decide to be okay. We can't take a break. We can't see the beauty in nature and everyday objects. Our sadness or disappointment or depression can reach so deep, we can't access these options. These options can feel too superficial to even attempt, or we feel distress that the roses, literal or not, are not in bloom.
It's okay to be sad sometimes. There is value to every emotion and feeling. If there wasn't, why would we feel them?

The important thing to remember is, just as there is a deep sadness, there is a deep happiness and peace always available. Thich Nhat Hanh relates the story of St Francis of Assisi, as he sees an almond tree in the dead of winter, which suddenly bursts forth in blooms. As Thich Nhat Hanh says, "It was winter; there were no leaves, flowers, or fruits, but he saw the flowers."

I don't believe it's a fairy story or a nice thing to say about the power of God.
Sometimes it's winter. It's deep and it's cold. The roses could be dead, the leaves could have fallen off, the bush could have rotted away. Still there would be the soil, and in it the remains of the roses, and the potential for more. Always. It's just how it is.