Simple, But Sometimes Lost

I’m dialing this one in kids.  No flowery prose.  No complete descriptions of feeling.  I’m pretty low today, so talking about simple pleasures was at the bottom of my list.  It’s a simple pleasure lately just getting out of bed without wanting to throw myself down a flight of stairs (which, incidentally, I just did today, and, it sucked).  My head is a pretty bleak place to be, these days, and, while I’m fighting to keep a positive tilt to my chin, sometimes, the shit just piles up and I can’t see above it.  That said, there are things that breathe the life back in, and I’d like to share a few with you, if only to feel this fiber-thin thread of connection with the world outside me.

 

Sand between my toes

 

 

Sunlight between crisp fall leaves,

 

 

A velvet bag full of sea glass

 

A healthy poop….NO.  Even I won’t post a picture.  Sicko.

 

Flowers still wet with dew

 

 

Crisp Macs fresh off the trees

 

 

Mrs. London’s Chocolate Macarons

 

 

The Adirondack mountains in fall’s full turn

 

 

Hudson Valley sunsets with friends

 

 

When they’re all quiet and snuggly


and also,

friends that pick up,

the crackle of a bonfire,

comments on my blog,

and the roar of a rainstorm.

 

Advertisements

8 thoughts on “Simple, But Sometimes Lost

  1. All great things, Jen. Hang on to that thread…I know that you’re struggling now, and I wish that there was some way to help you through. You have so much more going for you than you believe. It’s easy for other people to say, “Cheer up!” from across the miles. I’m sure that there are times when you’d like to tell those people to f*ck off and die. Just know that there are people out here who enjoy your writing, look up to you and hope that you find your way through the dark times.

  2. I may have only just met you, but I like you. So long as you keep writing, I’ll keep commenting. It’s not much, but it’s the very least I can do.

    Also? That cat and dog thing. Yes. A million zillion times yes. Go snuggle with them. That always helps me.

  3. “The very least I can do” was exactly what I thought when I read that part.

    I’m only a few weeks away from a really low point myself. I’m so sorry. I hope you find the path that leads outward soon.

  4. I wish I could send you a big box of all of those things – but the very least I can do is leave a comment. Hang in, lady. Hang in. (Also – please no more posting pictures of cookies, ok? This carb-deprived lunatic want to chew on her screen.)

  5. Right on. All of these things are honest and real. Good things to look forward to when the shit is hitting the fan. I hope they made you feel better over the last few days!!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s