A very grey March afternoon. The plus temperatures have melted much of the snow. There’s water everywhere. There is snow in the forecast for the next three days. I have been stuck for the last while but I don’t know where. I’m not going forward or backward. I am resigned and not fighting it. Because what is the use? How can I fight this unknown thing, condition, feeling? What could I fight it with?

Not much snow came. It is morning. Another grey day. I am not quite as downcast. I have to say that our world is broken. There is a crack in everything and everyone. I am not sure if that’s where the light comes in. I do not feel apologetic about my ‘negative’ but appropriate mood. To feel otherwise would be unnatural and denying reality. I no longer buy into the myth of “I can rise above everything.” Sometimes I can’t and it is ok. There is nothing wrong with me. I do not need to fix myself. I do not need counselling or medication. Life is not always a bed of roses.

Like Donald Trump, I have no plans on how to move forward. But I am not impulsive. I have no energy to do anything rash. I am not reckless by nature. Yesterday, driving to Tim Horton’s for a large coffee was exciting enough for me. Being in a coffeehouse wafting with aromas of coffee and baking and bustling with customers helped to reset my mood from gloom to a brighter hue. Today, I plan to work in the greenhouse, cleaning it of what remains of last year’s growth. It is warm enough now to seed some lettuce and spinach. I think I can manage that.

Now it is almost time to think about making lunch.