WAITING FOR THE STORM

IMG_1158Hot August day. I am waiting for the storm to erupt.  I am not feeling kosher, not copacetic at all.  In other words everything is not ducky.  I am seeing life through jaundiced eyes.  Do not worry!  I am not blaming you or anyone else.  Do not take it personally. It is just me, feeling the swirling energy around me.

There’s no need for sympathy nor pity.  I am doing quite well.  Perhaps I should be grateful for my kaleidoscope of moods and feelings.  I understand from whence they come.  Knowing myself enables me to understand others’ behaviour and feelings better.  It makes life easier and we all need that.

I do not try to fix myself anymore.  Believe me, I have tried so many times and in so many ways – self-help books, therapy, medication.  At long last I have come to accept myself, giving myself permission to be all that is human.  I no longer think of myself as being flawed.  Some days will be better than others.  Shit happens sometimes.  That is life, as they say.

IMG_6869No more There is less running around like a chicken with its head cut off, trying to overthrow my discomfort.  Now, I am okay just to sit with my own storm, waiting for God’s.  The sky is grey, the air is still.  The birds are chirping.  I’m waiting for their singing to stop.  That is when the rain will fall.  I’m waiting to hear the pitter patter above my head.

PALM SUNDAY

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Today is March 24th, Palm Sunday, the day of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem.

I am out early with Sheba for our walk.    The world is amazingly bright and warm, the snow reflecting the sun’s light and warmth.  It is a winter wonderland.  I try to reflect back God’s goodness.  It is not a difficult task in the morning hours of the day.  Not too many souls out and about, giving off bad vibes.

So I saunter along with Sheba, exploring God’s kingdom.  I allow Sheba to sniff here and there, scratching through the snow.  She rolls in the snow to her heart’s content.  After all, it is Sunday and every dog needs her day, too.

It is good to relax, not to be so hard on myself.  I once try to live my life according to a formula and discovered that it just didn’t work…no matter how hard I tried, even when I put the square pegs into the square holes and the round ones into round holes.  Someone dare to throw in pegs of a different shape.  I think that must have been God.

I reckon that there must be reasons for life being not perfect, not according to a formula.  I am learning to look at things from both sides, up and down and all around.  There is relief in being flawed, in being human.  There is always something to strive for, something to work towards.  Is that what they call life purpose?