Meh…

I don’t feel bad.
And I don’t feel great.

I feel—tired.

I don’t feel depressed.
And I don’t feel engaged.

I feel—sidelined.  

I don’t feel passionate.
And I don’t feel numb.

I feel—empty.

Does anybody identify?

Everything is a little grey, sparked by random beauty bursts by forsythia and flowering tree sightings.
The intensity of their beauty slices through the soft-almost-permeable-fog that surrounds me, but it doesn’t last.  The clouds settle in again.  

I take to the couch.

It’s not a bad time for me.  It’s just a tired and grey time.  

Thoughts of “reentry” confuse me.

I nap.

I’m ambivalent about seeing people.

I nap.

The highlight of my days (please do hold with confidence my following confession) truly is going upstairs to my bedroom, turning on my little camping lantern, (I have a complex and conflicted relationship with bedroom lamps), and getting in bed with my dog.  This ritual has crept earlier and earlier in the evening during this past year.  My average going-upstairs time these days is about 7:10 p.m.

As it gets lighter at night, I consider staying downstairs longer.

I don’t do it.

I freaked myself out when I heard myself say aloud to Niki the Dog, about 10:30 one morning, “Honey, I can’t wait to get into bed with you.”  (Please do not report me to the ASPCA.)

Things are better!  Like, 100×100 times better.  Joe and Kamala, the Minneapolis verdict, a quieter and further away abusive national politician.  The vaccine.  Occasionally, the weather.

Things are 100×100 times better-squared.

And still I nap.

I languish.

I read an article in the NY Times this week and it was helped; it identified the mid-state I find myself in.  The writer, Adam Grant, an organizational psychologist calls this 2021 state as languishing.

The title of the article—There is a Name for the Blah You are Feeling—It’s Called Languishing.

Check out the article.  The dude is onto something.

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/04/19/well/mind/covid-mental-health-languishing.html

~~~
The opposite of languishing is the flow-state, that place of absorption one gets while fully engaging, that place where the mind quiets and the body/mind works together, dropping us into that timeless zone.

For me, teaching is the easiest access to the flow state.  But/and, the thought of creating more teaching experiences for myself is—exhausting, just in concept.

Mowing the lawn opens my soul.  But oh!  Have I had the energy to call my neighbor, Horace, to ask him tune up the lawn mower?  No, I have not.

What helps you achieve flow?

Yoga?  Meditation?  Once I’m there, I’m good.  These days, the getting-there is edgy.

Walking?  Praying?  Yes, of course.  Yet—these days…….

~~~

We know how.  We know.  If we got through 2020, with its never-ending Trauma and Terror, we can do the 2021 Blahs.  

We know how.

Notice what you are feeling.

Breathe and relax.

Let it be.

Bless it and accept it.

Lean into the opposite direction.

Without right/wrong, good/bad.

We know how.

We do.

This is what it looks like

To practice

Knowing how.

~~~

This week, here are a few springboards for inspiration.  First, a glorious visual trip: