Sadness

I am on a walking trail
Ipod in ears–again.
Iced latte in hand-again!

I look for a bench to sit and write, I avoid the ones that are engraved and say “In Memoriam,” for they depress me further than I already am.

The only benches in the shade are these said benches, so I give in and sit on the shiny, cold marble that is carved with the name, “Marilyn, 1999.”  Did she love this trail too?  Did she walk when alive, drinking in the sounds of life?  Did she walk it slow, weak and sick, feeling life fade?  I wonder these things and I feel sad for Marilyn.

I take a walk today, to get some exercise, and to pray release some natural serotonin. Surprisingly, it helps.

How could it not?  The 60- degree cool breeze, brings whiffs of spring flowering trees.  These trees are the accessories of nature in the springtime, touches of purple, yellow, white and pink.  God never over-accessorizes.  He always gets it just right.

The sun shines but plays hide- and- seek behind large, white clouds.  It is a bit annoying as I have to reach for the jacket tied around my waist, every time it stays hidden for too long.  Annoying, but amusing, this hide-and-seek-game-playing with the sun.

This game I can’t control reminds me of life right now, and makes me think about how I am responding to things out of my control.  Am I responding annoyed or amused? Truthfully, I have fallen into self pity. I am oozing discontentment as these annoyances come my way:

~painful joints that get “stuck” when I sit too long–chemo side effects

~a female cycle that brings 2 weeks of emotional struggle, more than an annoyance–a full- blown sting.

~fatigue.  I pay for my walks, for at least 2-3 days after, I have little energy, needing naps and an early bedtime.

~right-side lower back pain.  A dull ache.  I wonder if it is the cyst on my ovary introducing itself to me.

I wonder how to change my response, to enter into the game and play nice.  How to be sad without making everyone else around me sad, too??  How to play, and even how to fight with a submissive “yes” nod?  Instead, I tense, fear and fight with a nodding, stubborn “no.”

I ponder these questions on my walk, as ipod pushes truth answers into my ears.  I scroll through songs and come upon one that pushes through my swirling questions and thoughts, giving answers.  Despite my dislike for the slight country twang, I listen to it three times…

In Better Hands by Natalie Grant