Blog started in Jan 2005: 1st entries for Write in Every Genre. Then the REAL ME begins |
I have been easily falling into funks lately. Vacation from work was great, but did not remove all sources of fear or frustration. When I stopped my husband just now for a moment, to tell him I'm sad. He said, "You need pie." Which, don't get me wrong, it make me smile and it was a good connection for him to make. Emotional eating is probably not my lasting solution either, huh? I have a choice to be happy or sad, productive or lazy, a shining example to my children or a misfit. I do know this. I long to live happily, however. Funks delay my action to do the right things to direct love upon myself and others. It does not seem easy when I face the clutter of my home, my questions about the future, my own understanding of love. I have loved long and devotedly, yet sometimes even this feels more sickness than healthy living in the moment. One friend has labeled this dependence. I am avoiding looking there. Shouldn't we all know how to be happy without depending on others? When I remember to connect through reaching out, whether it's in conversation or even just showing emotion, I am so much more pleased. By talking for just a few minutes, Art brought me full circle from wanting to write down that I was depressed and disconnected, to being sparked with a story idea. He'd read the summary of an anthropologist's paper on the linguistic developmental connection from bringing pets into tribal society. And the notion that Man might have to bring some other "tool" into modern societal groupings to evolve beyond basic language became my next question to ponder. |