October (the prettiest autumn month!) has come and gone, leaving nothing behind but a golden shadow of incomplete dreams…oof. There’s some purple prose for you.
I feel trapped. Like I’m stuck in my own head and I can’t quite claw my way free of the heaviness. I can be bright and chipper and engaging while I’m at work, but at the end of the day, when I’m left alone with my thoughts, the fog descends.
My life becomes an exercise in noticing, in remembering.
I lay back in the pile of leaves in the backyard and stare up at the blue, blue sky, the unmistakable scent of autumn surrounding me. Leaves rustle and crunch loudly beneath my head and I think to myself, I am alive and I am present in this moment, and it is good.
I am sitting in the comfy living room armchair holding baby Ella. She’s sound asleep, curled up in the fetal position on my chest, snuggling into me, her cheek resting against my heart, legs tucked up beneath her, one tiny hand clutching tightly to the neckline of my sweater. So new, so devastatingly precious. She fills up my heart until I feel I hardly dare breathe for the wonder of her.
I am sitting in front of my computer, aimless. Check my email – and there, waiting for me, words from a dear friend. Eagerly I devour them, all self-control thrown to the wind. Somehow a massive grin has spread itself across my face. I never thought words were a love language for me, but I think perhaps they are, after all – that reaching out and connecting; that sharing of heart and mind and soul is uniquely precious to me and I treasure it.
These are the moments I remember, and cling to, when the darkness comes back. When I feel pointless; like my life has lost all relevance. I remember that God doesn’t make mistakes, and if he chose to put me on this earth, it’s not for no reason.
November is the month of deliberate, intentional thankfulness, and I choose to participate.