I had every intention of putting together a longer post for this week, but it turns out there are limits to being a person in real life. It’s 7:56 pm Thursday evening and I am watching a baby crawl around in a diaper near my feet. She’s practicing her new skill of clapping, in the blissfully self absorbed way babies do.
October came around the corner, and like clockwork it brought lurking shadows of past years in which October has been very unkind. There are layers of emotions that come rolling in with the change of seasons. On the one hand I’m all Anne Shirley1, on the other, I’m checking my rear view mirror to make sure depression isn’t on my heels.
One of the beautiful things about writing on a regular basis is that there’s a record of how I’ve felt in the past. Sometimes I am discouraged that I so often return to the same feelings and struggles. Am I ever going to be done with this? Will I never learn? But, as I think of this cyclical learning, my mind is drawn towards the rhythms…