Those days of feeling glum are inevitable.
For me, glum days take on a few different shapes. I won’t feel like getting out of bed in the morning. I’ll be easily distracted, unable to focus on a particular task and instead floating from one thing to another, with long periods of just sitting and thinking in between them. I won’t accomplish half of the things on my daily to-do list, if I even get around to making the to-do list in the first place.
Fogged with a layer of listlessness, these are days that I would rather not have — of course I would prefer to be energetic than fatigued, happy than sad — but are days that I recognize as an inescapable aspect of being human. And as such, I feel compelled to accept them at least and embrace them at best, to try to hear what they are telling me and be at peace with all that has made its home inside of me for the day: the grief, the irritation, the fear.
Embracing the sadness, the frustration, and the worry isn’t wallowing, and it isn’t giving into a closed-in negativity. On the contrary, it is utter spaciousness. It’s saying, “I am big enough, and strong enough, and resilient enough that I can welcome all that enters this body, this mind, this heart and this soul of mine. Today it may be dread and boredom, anxiety and distraction. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? I am open to it all.”
For all that has been, Thank You. For all that is to come, Yes.