Well, I hate to admit this, but I spent yesterday in a state of, "poor, poor, pitiful me," which wasn't nearly as lovely as when Linda Ronstadt sings it. As a matter of fact, it was really annoying. When I'm in one of those moods, I start by spending far too much time looking outside myself for a solution: maybe if I took a break from This, or stirred up a little drama with That, or turned a stone over There.
Eventually, I decide it's time to get back in the flow of life, I stop looking out There, I see what's in Here that's not in synch with Life, and then let it go. This used to take me days and sometimes much longer. In the last few years, my 'turnaround time' has shortened considerably, sometimes lasting only for a couple of hours, sometimes no more than a few minutes. Now, if I could just manage to keep my thoughts to myself, my mouth shut, and stay off the computer (do not push send), no one would be the wiser. But, noooo, I have to call, or email, or do something else that's semi-self-destructive, like eat half a rhubarb pie. Similar, perhaps, to the one I made yesterday from my second rhubarb pulling.
Going into the turn, my friend, JB, called from Moab and listened for a minute, possibly three, to my self-pitying rant. Then he let me cry, without judgment and without feeling any need to try to fix it. He listened, knowing I would get it together and that, as always, it was only a tiny blip on my personal radar. Sometimes, it's the simple and real solution of hearing another person's voice, knowing someone is on the other end of the line.
The view from my kitchen window:
The fruit trees:
My place on the river:
The forget-me-nots that line the bank:
And this little tulip-eater, now under yard arrest while Ma gets some yard work done.
Yeah, it's a life for which I'm very grateful.