While driving to work earlier this week, I had a moment of self-awareness. I noticed that I'm feeling kind of blah with my life right now, maybe I could even call myself depressed. This observation didn't come with any emotion, it didn't make me sad or happy, it didn't spark a desire to change things for better or worse. It just was. Sarah is feeling blah. The skies are cloudy. A frog is an amphibian.
My life is good. Nothing much is happening, but everything is always happening. My days are on a busy loop, an endlessly repeating cycle of rushing, rushing, rushing that gets tiresome. They go like this:
I get woken too early by the dog or my husband's alarm clock, or both. I drift back to sleep. My alarm wakes me, I push "snooze" and I doze, I drift in and out of wakefulness. I check my phone and get sucked into social media instead of starting my morning. Finally, I get out of bed and I feel rushed as I do my morning chores, get ready for my day, and light a fire under my children's hind ends to get themselves ready as well. I usually end up yelling at one or both of them before we get out the door. They go to school, I go to work.
Work is a weird mix of wonderful and not wonderful. I love my job. For a long time, being a veterinary assistant felt "not good enough" to be my career. I felt like I needed to aim higher, be more, earn more. Then, at some point, I didn't feel that way anymore. I am happily comfortable as a veterinary assistant. I like what I do for a living. I like my coworkers and my schedule. I don't like being in an office that is consistently understaffed. I don't like the feeling of never being able to do all the things that need to be done, the feeling of more rushing.
After work I cram in shopping, laundry, cleaning, kid homework time, kid reading time, kid extracurricular time, cooking, cleaning up after cooking, packing lunches, pet care, showering, and time with my husband. (Rush, rush, rush.) Sometimes I am efficient and feel very lucky to sit down and read a book, watch a movie, or write a blog post. Then I sleep. Then I do it all over again.
And again, and again, and again.
Also, I read the news about the progression of climate change and I feel sad for my beautiful Earth and I worry about the problems that my children will inherit. Then I read the news about the legislation in my country trying to regulate people's bodies and limit access to healthcare and I feel sad for my people and I worry about the problems that my children will inherit.
I know that I am making a mostly positive impact within my little circle of life. I know that I am building and shaping two little humans, and that that makes a difference. I know that I am helping my coworkers and our clients, and that makes a difference. I know that I am doing what I can to help my Earth, and that makes a difference. I know that I am important, loved, lovable.
Still, I feel gray. The skies are cloudy. Today I'll sit with these feelings. I'll let them be here for a little while. I'll welcome them into me as a part of my sometimes drab, repetitive, constantly evolving existence. I will listen to my favorite flavor of angsty girl music and allow myself to just be blah.
I know my mood will lift, just as I know the storm will eventually blow past.
It always does.