Generally speaking I can cruise just high enough above my emotional well to not get seared by the intensity of the fire I’ve been stoking for thirty two years. Every once in a while though, I wake up like any other day, but suddenly feel as though my skin has been peeled back like a banana in the nimble hands of a monkey.
Today is one of those days.
I imagine it is easy to equate this description with feelings of depression, but I assure you this isn’t the case. It’s actually kind of lovely to be in this space, but I’m glad it’s only a once in a while thing.
Allow me to site some examples.
I’ve had only four hours of sleep, but I woke up this morning with my cat curled in a ball on the pillow next to my head, with a little golden trickle of sunlight streaming into my room, and I was all but purring myself. At the light, at the crisp cool temperature of my room from having left the window open all night long, at the happy feeling I carried home in my tummy last night…
Making morning coffee in my oversized purple kimono was sheer bliss…
The happy coincidence of sending a morning email to my darling friend in Paris just as she was emailing me…
Reading the epic email my brother composed to say goodbye to the woman he loves, and welling with pride at how despite his massive size, he’s really all squishy inside…
The quasi-Victorian, very autumnal outfit I chose with the swishy skirt that made me feel floaty and ethereal under the canopy of neighbourhood trees…
The soundtrack my ipod provided on my morning commute and the marvel of how everyone else seemed to hear the rhythm of the music…
The serene pleasure of being the first in the office, and checking phone messages and making coffee for the girls…
And then reading this, which made me cry at my desk…
It’s not even noon, and I’m looking forward to feeling how the day unfolds.