One Foot in the Door
Every now and then when the buzz of static in my head crowds out any thoughts of poetry and the stiff ache in my body spreads like a virus, when it’s winter and the ground is frozen and covered with dirty snow and my energy has sunk like the sun to its lowest level, when my house is cluttered and dirty and emptying the dishwasher feels like a mountain hike, when another truck is totaled after sliding on a patch of ice and another mass shooting is in the news, I think about going on antidepressants.
Dragging myself through the rudimentary basics of a day, washing my hair, keeping the woodstove going, making a meal, I want to curl up and sleep. But then I remember my mother who can no longer walk on her own, who because of osteoporosis and a stroke needs help with every aspect of her life, who needs regular pep talks to get off the couch even when she is bone tired, and I know I should be grateful for just being able to put one foot in front of the other and I know that I will be soon enough.
January 18th, 2011 12:51 am
And a nice touch of color with the smell of the dark earth helps a lot.
January 18th, 2011 6:59 am
Bless you dear. Hang in there. Summer is just around the corner.
January 18th, 2011 8:49 am
very poignant. i wonder sometimes why i have such low energy in the winter. i am sleeping more and doing less. i love how the picture is, in some ways, in direct contrast with the writing… but then not… because i think there is always that bit of spring and light in one’s heart, even through the dismal. i have to surround myself with beautiful things that bloom in winter.. like amaryllis and flowers i dry in summer… and candles, incense, and music i love. it helps carry me through.
January 18th, 2011 10:08 am
Yesterday I started to feel well enough to go out grocery shopping and saw yellow baby daffodils for $4.99 and knew I needed them as a bright antidote. The day before was a complete washout (except for watching the Golden Globes).
January 18th, 2011 10:11 am
I feel for you Colleen, because I remember the unending feeling that always set in with winter in the mountains. I often struggle with these same types of emotions – just trying to work at a dead end job to pay a mortgage on a house that is falling apart makes me emotionally exhausted. And lately, I’ve had to move mountains in my own soul to get outside in the cold and run every day. But without fail, during my run, there is a point where I breath in really, really deep and the pure pleasure of that physical action causes me to remember to be grateful that I still have legs that can run and lungs that can fill with air and a strong heart that pumps all of that oxygen throughout my body.
Sometimes, it is only the small things in life that have the power to rescue. I hope the sun shines a little bit for you today! 🙂
January 18th, 2011 10:37 am
I try to remember that the ‘what’s the point?’ feelings and having zero energy doesn’t last and I’m working on finding the joy in the simplest and smallest day and to be easy on myself. But sometimes my funks seems to need expression before they can pass. I could not write this when I was thick into it (because I had zero inspiration) but wrote it the next day when the funk had lifted to some degree and it, like the flowers, was part of the antidote. Sort of a eulogy!
January 18th, 2011 2:53 pm
Sending happy thoughts your way, Colleen.
I had a low ebb moment this morning. I had brought the kids to school and was having trouble settling into the day’s routine (working from home…starting to be a bit of a chore…story for another day, I believe.)
I asked myself silently what the heck I was doing, and whether any of it had any purpose. Just as I completed this rather hopeless thought, the dog meandered around the corner and stared intently at me. Time for his walk, he said without saying a word.
Out we went. And the simple act of wandering the neighborhood with him for half an hour blasted me out of my funk and gave me the focus I needed to move on.
One foot in front of the other… Some days, it’s all we can do.
January 18th, 2011 10:52 pm
I am with you and love you!! xo
January 19th, 2011 12:32 pm
Fib flares are not fab. Exhaustion rather sucks the rubber chicken.
Slow and unsteady as she goes, time goes and gets somewhere else.
January 19th, 2011 2:52 pm
Love the daffodils…an excellent reminder that spring is just around the corner!
We all have days like you describe, Colleen…I call them “can’t get out of my own way” days…
Wendy
January 20th, 2011 11:16 pm
Oh! How I relate to both YOU and your mother! Would that were not so, my dear Colleen……
Life can get very very hard as time goes on….!