Hello world. It’s a wonderful, slow grey day on the West Coast. A slight drizzle. I have been having a slow November. More sleep, slightly less exercise, slightly less of a hustle. I usually panic at the signs of slowing down, fearing I will head back into depression, but I’m seeing that there isn’t always need to self-monitor and fear the abyss. I can trust myself not to go there because I have enough awareness of the costs involved. That is something that scared me immensely in the dark days, that loss of self-trust. I can trust myself to not stay in bed all day. To not listen to sad songs beyond the point of simple empathy and into wallowing. To fulfill my responsibilities, if not perfectly, at least enough. And sometimes quite well indeed.
I have laundry to fold. Emails to send. Books to read. These are the tasks of life, which I grew to resent but have learned once more to appreciate. Trimming my cuticles. Returning the laundry basket to its place. The little bits of structure that keep you sane. I resent them no longer. I am grateful for life.