Sunday morning; it is grey and drizzly as it has been for what seems like weeks and weeks. It fits well with a kind of inner greyness which accompanies me.
I tend to busy myself with all kinds of things so as to avoid that inner greyness which is a kind of slow, melancholy, unremarkable and pervasive emptiness. My life long habit is to fill my life with people, activities, beautiful things, music and lots of thinking (about people, activities, things)… and that neglected lost soul of a feeling just wonders around just behind, just above, just beneath me, gently calling for my attention.
My mind can easily give it names – well this is because the future looks bleak, or this is because I was lonely as a child, or this is because it keeps drizzling here in England and I wish the sun would shine more.
I think I shall drop ‘becausing’ for a bit.
What if there is no because?
So I allow myself to dip in to this ghostly feeling and find out what it is really like.
It is quiet. It tastes of nothing much. There is a sense of aloneness in it. It is undemanding and yet pervasive, like this thick grey cloud which hangs over the Devon world. It is monotone and quite emotionless. There is nothing to feel good about and nothing to feel bad about, and yet the nothingness seems to invite a movement towards both or either direction, just to jazz things up a bit. Uninspected, even feeling bad seems better than this nomansland.
And yet there is a gentleness to it, a simplicity, a quietness when I let myself abide in it, which is soft and relieving. Oh yes, nowhere to go with this. Nothing to do. And something of my drivenness has a chance to stall and let things be as they are.
And this English winter weather can have my appreciation for simply being as it is, with gratitude for this warm comfortable home.
And all those activities I have created to avoid empty, depleted feelings can be seen for what they are, and be allowed to slow down.
And slowly, maybe, I can relax, allow all of this to be as it is, and every lonely, lost, empty, grey feeling can be invited home to roost.
…every lonely, lost, empty, grey feeling can be invited home to roost… ahh… reading that made my whole system go… ahhhhh… and then I thought about roosting and I laughed, as they say, out loud… love x
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Quiet is good and slow is good. There has to be time passed at the edge of the route.
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