Sunday Serenity: Wallowing in Gratitude
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| My Happy Place Became My Wallowing Place |
After encountering some grief grenades last week followed up by heat whammies and exacerbated by incipient blisters across the bottoms of both feet forcing me to stay off them for several days, I've spent the last ten or more days in a wallow. With the lights out and the windows and blinds shut tight to lessen the heat impact, it would still top 90 degrees by late afternoon with the fan on high. I could never open up the windows until after sundown and most nights the air outside did not start to feel cooler than the air inside until midnight. So after several weeks of go, go, go related to the move, I was suddenly forced to put the brakes on and wait for the red light to change.
The books I read for the read-a-thon last weekend provided the grief grenades and without the distraction of the physical labor of the moving tasks, I had to sit with the feelings in the dark. Those feelings started to taint the feelings of joy the move and been generating with the sadness of missing Ed and not being able to share my joy with him.
I tried and for the most part succeeded in distracting myself from the grief for periods of time with videos, video games, or ebooks and audio books on devices that did not generate heat. Or even sleeping. But several times at seemingly random intervals when I was completely entranced by what I was doing--or even asleep--I would be slammed by a sudden vivid memory that transported me into a 3D movie with soundtrack of a moment in time that took place in Ed's apartment during one of our sleepovers.
This happened at least half a dozen times before I realized the train was always blowing its whistle and rumbling past as it often did when I spent time at Ed's whose apartment was just a few blocks from where I now live.
After I figured out the trigger, the memories continued to be delivered by the train's passing but they started feeling like gifts rather than gut punches. They were all from the time before things fell apart again, during the height of the hope in late 2019 and early 2020 when he had been sober for months. I realized I had been burying those memories as if what had happened later had invalidated them and thus they generated feelings of shame in myself for 'falling for false hope' yet again.
I've decided that is the wrong attitude because it has me second guessing hope on principle and hope is a necessary component of serenity, faith and joy. And once my thoughts started down this path I eventually stepped into gratitude and regained a healthier perspective on several of the dark thoughts I'd been wallowing in.
Like:
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| The Shelves I Built with my Britanica Great Books Set in Place |
So what if 95% of my books are still over at Mom's. I built those shelves and they are still here and my favorite set of books is showing off their glittery spines.
Don't look at what isn't there yet but rather at what is.
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| The Blue Shelf Unit I Built Displaying My Crafts |
So what if the beautiful blue shelf unit I built out of the parts of two units and then spent hours lovingly organizing, is now going to have to be broken down into two smaller units to make room for the couch being delivered later this week.
The couch is necessary and beautiful too and once I have it I won't have to sleep on the floor anymore.
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| My Desk with a Mr. Roger's Neighborhood View |
So what if my desk is still jerry--rigged with boards across cardboard boxes. It has the beautiful and serene view I've always dreamed of having for my writing station.
So what if I have to keep the blinds and window tight shut on hot days. That is temporary.
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| Pantry Cupboard 1 |
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| Fridge and Freezer |
So I have plenty of food available that doesn't need cooking....
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| Pantry Cupboard 2 |
...and plenty more available just waiting for the cooler days when anything is possible.
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| My Aqua Baking Pan Set |
