I've been downhearted, baby.
Last night I was trying to describe it to J in a wee hour of the morning, a time when I often bring up weighty tearful sleepover-in-pjs topics. In my defense, he asked and encouraged me- nay, propelled me- by listening like he does to my rambling quivery-voiced confessional.
It's not that I'm unhappy, generally. I have the rare privilege of enjoying some semblance of perspective on my life just now. I can savor most of it on most days and appreciate the grace I've been given and so on.
It's just that I'm not very happy with myself.
I know I could be satisfied with a few small changes, could put small routines in motion now that will keep me on the level for the next few years. When I get to the end of a day I generally feel a little disappointed in me, and where that used to be enough to get me going the next morning instead it seems to pile on like green cookie dough, encasing me in a thick goo of inertia.
Today helped. It's 63 degrees here, and the sky is a very fashionable Scandinavian blue with high cirrus clouds wisping around whimsical jet trails. It looks like the folks up there are drawing something recognizable from some other angle.
The air smells. It's a distinctly Oregon mix of grass growing + sun on rich soil + a breeze blowing across mountains & vineyards & Nordstrom's perfume counters from the sea. It makes me feel cleaner, even though I could frankly use a shower and am hoping for a late evening nap to help me out there.
I wonder about the ways being a mom has changed me that have nothing to do with my actual parenting. Maybe these are just things that come when you've done all the schooling they can come up with degrees for, and you move to a new town from a place with your first truly adult life. Maybe I've always been lazy like this but the structure of my schedule helped me ignore it.
Anyway, today is better and I hope tomorrow will be like this, too. Even if it rains I'm going to try to sit on the deck for a bit and catalog the fresh air.