I haven’t been outside in a while. I’ve just been struggling. Griefy. Down. You get it. So I’ve been staying in. Resting. Crocheting. Taking deep breaths. Praying. I do believe there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I’m not hopeless. No one has to worry. This is just a griefy stretch of road, and I’m too weary to run. So, I walk slow, and it hurts longer, but I believe if I keep moving, the grief won’t swallow me, and eventually there will be a lift out of the fog.
It’s coming.
Today, I walked the kids to school. I haven’t walked them in a while, but today called for it. I didn’t feel particularly strong or capable of doing so, as just about everything is extra right now. But it was necessary, so I did it.
The air was so crisp. I didn’t mind it. My adorable neighbour gave me some jackets the other day (because she’s nice and we’re both tiny women) so I had a cute, new-to-me jacket to wear, and I liked that. The kids I walked with were happy and energetic and polite. It was a really nice walk. I walked back alone and enjoyed the fresh air.
But myyyyy goodness. You know when you have been a couch potato for a really long time, and then you go outside and its colder than it was the last time you were out? My legs felt sore, even though the walk was short. My head felt light. I felt completely overextended. But I’m intentionally holding onto the enjoyment of the walk itself. And I plan to hold onto that feeling until I’m home from picking the kids up after school.
And then I’ll crash and have a cry in reaction to my body being so unbelievably tired.
Because thats how we roll 😎✌️♿