Opening my eyes and looking at the clock, I see it is 5.00am. Time to get out of bed. Then I recall that this morning is a Saturday and I don’t have to get up if I don’t want. Quickly doing a mental stocktake of the day’s activities I remember I have sewing class at 9am and there are things to do before then. “Just a little longer” the tiny voice inside my mind says. So I close my eyes… and wake up two hours later! I know I have things to do but my body struggles to move. My mind remains foggy. Dragging my body from my bed, I wander out to the kitchen to switch on the kettle. Perhaps a green tea will fix whatever is ailing me.
Once the kettle has boiled, I make my cup of tea and take it with me to the computer in order to catch up on news and daily inspiration from the blogosphere. I feel the cloud from my mind descend upon my shoulders. It weighs heavy. As it pulls me down, I feel the tears form in my eyes. What is wrong with me? Why is this happening? I’m supposed to be happy. Not feeling sad like this. Not for no reason. Anger at my irrational fears begins growing. The more the anger grows, the bigger the unshed tears start forming in my eyes. I seek solace in the arms of the Garden Gnome. I know he will understand exactly how I am feeling at this moment. The logical part of my mind tells me that this is irrational. The male logic of the Garden Gnome begins telling me that I am expecting too much of myself and I need to cut back on my commitments. I love that men always seek solutions to problems. He assists me in packing the car with my sewing machine and other things I require for class, kisses me goodbye and watches me back out of the driveway.
Then I remember I don’t have any money in my purse and need to stop by the ATM. I am already running late although I have no idea why as I have been up for two hours. Tears threaten once more. I am determined I am not going to let them fall. Blinking them back, I drive to the nearest ATM. The newsagent next door is open, so I wander in to browse the craft magazines. (Not that I need any more magazines). A little retail therapy always helps me at these times though.
Finding a magazine full of Christmas sewing ideas (and a little gift for a co-worker who is doing things tough right now), I get back into my car and pull into the Saturday morning traffic on my way to class.
I arrive late. I knew I would. Nobody minds.
I take my place and set up my sewing machine but my mind is finding difficulty in focusing on what I need to do. The pieces of fabric I cut are not the right size. I berate myself for this and toss them on the table. My instructor looks at me and asks “Would you like a cup of tea”? Like a drowning woman grasping at a passing life boat, I clutch her kindness and accept her offer. The cup of tea helps me settle a little. Enough for me to complete my project. Finally! Then another small thing occurs and I begin to melt once again. Another cup of tea is offered and I am distracted away from the error I have made by a redirection in conversation. By the end of class, I feel partially normal once again and thank my instructor for her non-judgmental way of handling my mood.
As I write this, I still don’t feel too fantastic in myself. I still want to cry. The tears are below the surface. This is not rational! There is no tangible reason for this! So I turn my focus to my surroundings.
I hear the sound of the water bubbling in the water feature outside my window. The breeze is blowing the lace curtain onto my face. I hear the grand children chattering away in the bathroom as Pa puts them in the bath. They are excited because we are taking them out for dinner this evening and are busy making plans. I feel…. I feel love for the Garden Gnome for understanding why I have retreated to my room to write this afternoon. I feel love for the little ones who are our future. I feel gratitude for the fact that they are part of my life. I hear laughter from my daughter at the antics of my grandson. She joins me to tell me what has made her laugh. The Garden Gnome and I join in the laughter.
The laughter begins to ease my soul.