Pity Party for One

This usually happens right around this time of year. The appeal of winter has long faded, and the gloomy, short days start to get to me. I felt myself drift into a slump when I got back from Alberta, and a stressful week at the university only propelled me down whatever road I was already headed.

It’s the winter blues.

I try to combat them as well as I can. Yoga, watching stand-up comedy, meditating, and putting on pants to leave the house are all things I’ve tried in the past week, but I still felt that dark grey cloud hovering over me.

I’ve tried smiling more. Did you know that studies have shown that if you smile, it can trick your brain into thinking you’re happy? This is especially helpful when you’ve got a big smile plastered on your face, tears rolling down your cheeks, and you’ve sufficiently frightened the shit out of the person in the car sitting next to you at a red light.

It’s taken a hit on my writing, too. Normally when I sit down with my laptop, the words flow out of me. Yesterday I sat down with the intention to write, but the words were as empty as my new year resolutions.

When I popped open my laptop tonight, the frustration set in again. I tried writing an idea I’ve had all week, and nothing was coming out. Slowly I grew more and more impatient with myself, and it didn’t take long before I felt like curling up into a ball and turning on Netflix for the duration of the evening.

Then I remembered something…..relax. Not just about writing, about everything. One of the biggest lessons I’ve taken away from the past year is that life is so impermanent. The things that we think are important end up being tiny blips on the radar, and when it all comes down to it, in the grand scheme of things, nothing really matters. What matters is that we live for today, we give our love to everything and anything we can, and that we appreciate each and every moment, the bad and the good.

So I’ll sit here on this Friday evening, with my grey cloud hanging over me, and I’ll let it pour. And maybe after a glass of wine, I’ll splash around in the puddle.

 

Peace,

Diane

 

 

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