Mud holes

Yesterday was a super, duper, really bad day.  Nothing specifically tragic happened.  I just could not get off the couch.  My husband would pass by me, pat me on the shoulder, tell me everything was going to be okay and still I could not move.  It was not a physical ailment.  I was down in the dumps, depressed and discouraged.  I periodically go through these mud holes.  It may be a family trait, a weakness of character or maybe a gift.

Today, looking back, I would say it is a gift.  If I said that to myself yesterday I would have buried my head deeper into my self-made mud pit and cried.  But today, on the other side of melancholy, things look different.

Yesterday, as I wallowed in self-indulgent misery (I took no steps to make things better such as a walk in the fresh air), I thought about my life, my desires, my failures, regrets and the current state of my house.  I reflected on the kind of mother I am, the kind I'd like to be and the kind I really can be (and have been).  Through all this thinking, I figured out what really matters to me and what really makes me happy.  And, as they say: "If mama ain't happy, ain't no one happy"...or something like that.

So what does make me happy?  Well, for one thing less time with my Kindle (see yesterday's post).  At least a little time for quiet prayer and reflection is important.  Good and honest friendships is another important factor in my sense of well-being (I figured that out while a friend listened to me go on and on about past regrets and future fears and we didn't even have our usual large glass of wine). Lastly, I need to write.  This need needs more attention and so you see I've posted two days in a row.

Happiness isn't everything.  Suffering will come too.  Both are necessary to be truly alive.  I do not plan to spend other day in a desperate mud bog, but I probably will be there again some day.  Suffering gives me perspective.  It helps me to see what's important and what I need to let go.  It's not to be feared or avoided.  Instead, it can be like a knot in a rope to hold onto in order to get out of the bog.

Then there's redemptive suffering...but don't get me started on that.  I don't have time tonight.  Little Bear wants a story before she goes to sleep.  I hope I'm not too late.  However, if you are interested in the topic you can read about it here.

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