My kids talked me out of buying a gold lamé bathing suit this week when I took them thrift shopping. It was brand new, tags still on, name-brand. My son said it was too flashy “for my stage in life” and I angrily hung the bathing suit back up and silently promised to come back later this week and get it if it was still here. I slumped into a recliner in the furniture section and pouted. Who knows how many people sat on that used recliner?!? I was already in a foul mood. That’s the only way to describe it, and I’ve been using that term a lot lately because it is perfect. I felt/feel sour and weary.
It’s been very gray in Kansas City, but I’ve enjoyed it because it is mirroring my mood. It’s incredibly humid, and I’m one of the rare people who loves humidity. I love when the air is super thick and heavy, like I’m in a Tennessee Williams novel. I love the sheen it gives my skin, and the way it makes my hair giant and curly. I love how it makes us all move a little slower… how it makes everyone look a little half-lidded and sleepy. Gray makes greens feel greener, and since it’s been so wet, everything feels tropical and slightly wild. If I close my eyes, I can be somewhere else entirely.
I also enjoy the brief moments of sunshine that peek through the dark, foreboding storm clouds. I love the way it strobes in, sort of pecking at you with a beam of light. How it makes everyone look up and take it in and savor it. I love knowing that there is a blue sky up there all the time—that eventually these clouds will break, and it will be bright and clear again.
Photo by Harshit Sharma on Unsplash
As I grow in my emotional maturity, it’s becoming easier for me to apply that same perspective to whatever the day, the week, the season brings. I have not perfected it. There is a fine line between letting things go and repressing them... a fine line between self-awareness and disassociation.
I’m realizing a lot about myself, and the purging of those realizations is making me slightly nauseous. It feels like an Exorcism, which must not be a physically pleasant experience if the movies are any indication. But even in the midst of a gray-hearted week, wow… were there some real beams of light breaking through the clouds. When I list them, it seems silly that I would even be sad. The sadness is not logical, not rational. This week I had a really special 1:1 dinner with my oldest son in honor of his birthday. We had steaks and wine (me, not him… he had a COFFEE at 7 pm, which I allowed because it’s his birthday). I got great news at work. I was appointed to a Board of Directors. I got to hug co-workers and see my neighbor sing in a jazz group. I had nice cocktails and conversation in the balmy air. And still. The grayness was smothering.
I can see and appreciate the sunshine, even if it’s fleeting. I know Summer is coming, and after that Fall. And then Winter again. And so on.
There’s one question I turn to in times like this:
“What do you need right now?”
Sometimes the gray feels too heavy to even raise my head and do the thing I know I need. This week was different. I knew what I needed to do and I did it. Progress! Yay, me!
So, in no particular order, here are five things I needed this week to just live in the swamp.
I needed to make something
Sugary things aren’t my thing. But, I love a good mildly sweet and tangy dessert. This Carrot Cake was a hit--it’s like a Carrot Cake topped with a cheesecake-y batter and baked all at once. I’ve been eating wedges of it for the last three days.
I am up to my neck in produce, so last night I spent some quality time with my pasta attachments for my KitchenAid mixer and made some caramelized tomato and onion sauce and absurdly long Linguine noodles from scratch. I air-fried some meatballs and scoured my produce crispers to make homemade dog food. I spent hours pulling noodles and simmering sauce, and it took about 5 minutes for everyone to devour it. That doesn’t bother me at all. It was the sense of accomplishment that mattered.
I needed to listen to a soothing voice
Yikes. Have y’all read The Midnight Library? I’m listening to Carey Mulligan narrate it on Audible. I don’t know whether it’s the best choice for the middle of the existential crisis I’m in, considering it’s a book about all the lives we can have if we would have chosen a different path. But it’s sort of like exposure therapy, in a way.
I needed to laugh
My son is running for Student Body President and my daughter is running for Sophomore class VP. My girl is running unopposed, so she’s unbothered. My son has a competitive election so he pulled out all the stops for his campaign material. I’m shook.
I needed to sweat
Saturday morning I woke up and said to myself “I’m going to PR today.” It was Game 3 of a very silly Peloton tournament, and my friend and I were texting game-day motivation like we were in the NBA finals. I fueled my body the same way I would on a run-race day. I hydrated. I Thera-Gunned. All for a 20-minute competition on a bike that goes nowhere.
But we won. And I PR’d.
On a different day, I needed a different type of sweat. I needed to be bathed in muggy air, listening to the same Peloton 20-minute Soul Walk that has my favorite songs on it. I needed to be walking down my favorite hidden alley in my neighborhood, sneaking peeks into my neighbor’s backyards, and checking out their outdoor furniture setups. I needed to have my best girl with me.
And finally, I needed this guided prayer.
More than anything, I needed friends. And people were there (virtually) right when I needed them. This is another sign of mental health growth--the humility to ask for connection. I don’t have a “help ask”, I don’t have a task I need someone to do. I don’t want advice. I just needed to know someone else is out there. And they were. And THAT is something to be immensely grateful for.
I hope you get what you need this week, sunshine or no sunshine.
xo,
Sarah
I am always a phone call/text away. Although I hate humidity I will sweat it out with you in a walk (I’m not a badass like you and can run 5 miles).