It’s been a history-making month, like most months this year, but mostly on this final day I’m enjoying the cold front that has moved through. It is not cold by most standards outside of Florida, but the temp was 58°F by the time doggo and I crawled out of bed (neither of us were in a rush; I kept turning off my alarms and Keely did not come to roust me out of bed until after 6 am. It’s a Monday. We are excused.)
I am happy to report that there are a few more holiday decorations going up slowly around the neighborhood. The mood is definitely “low key” which I think is fitting for this year, honestly. I am deeply suspicious of anyone who is going all out to celebrate. We can all fervently hope for a better tomorrow with being respectful of the recent past.
In other news, I know my brain is coming back online when I can listen to audio books while dog walking. It’s a fairly obvious sign that I’m not doing well psychologically when I stop listening to audio books and podcasts for enjoyment, I’ve discovered over the past couple of years.
My life is overall holding steady, both health-wise and financially, but a lot of the ambient stress and grief around me has definitely affected my mentality. I was not one of the ones who became super productive during lock down; which is also a pattern that I noticed when I compared it to other stressful times of my life. For instance, when I was the primary caretaker for my ailing parents, I did not work outside the home, but nor did I accomplish anything personally noteworthy. I sure could NOT write.
Back to my point, I listened to the audio book If You Want to Write by Brenda Ueland (unabridged), a book recommended during the writer’s retreat I participated earlier this month. The narrator isn’t great, but not terrible, and the book is full of inspiring gems of insight on writing, creativity, risk, and vulnerability. I find I need the encouragement. I am looking for the joy in creativity I used to nurture in my life. I miss it.