Friday was a good day.
After work I went with my mom to buy her flowers and hanging baskets for Mother’s Day, per our tradition. I got my petunias in the ground, went for a walk and simply enjoyed the sunshine and the fact that I could finally work outside.
Saturday wasn’t so great. I hate everything that I write as of late, so I’ll just share that I ended up wallowing in an emotionally dark place for a variety of (seemingly inexplicable and unrelated) reasons.
And we all know how wallowing is an extremely productive use of time.
At any rate, in the middle of one of my “moments,” I decided to go for a walk. Now, I’m the queen of preventative measures in that I plan for just about any contingency that may arise. Umbrellas, flashlights, extra napkins —you never know when you’re going to need them.
But seeing as there was only a 10 percent chance of showers that afternoon, I just laced up my shoes and took off. All was well until dark clouds rolled across the previously sunny sky. I ignored, as I’m prone to do when impending unpleasantness may occur.
However, it was hard to ignore the sprinkles and then outright downpour that followed a few minutes later. I had no umbrella. I had no towel. I had no ark in which to load pairs of animals and seek shelter. I kept walking — as I obviously had no other choice — but I was wet and cranky.
Then I started to wonder why. I wasn’t dressed up and ready to go to a wedding — unless a T-shirt, workout pants and unwashed hair were the nuptial attire — and I wasn’t carrying the Olympic torch with me. Why did it matter if I got a little wet, if I got a little uncomfortable?
I couldn’t control it and wasn’t prepared, so I simply kept walking along. But while I didn’t melt, I instead melted down, and a mixture of raindrops and teardrops were streaming down my face by the time I got back home. The rain stopped, but without an emotional umbrella to bust out and use, the tears just kept raining on down.
And I kid you not, a pile of bird shit landed two inches from where I was sitting on my deck, so be thankful for small miracles.
At any rate, in the interest of wrapping things up with a nice tidy bow, I’ll pull a metaphor from bird shit and me being creatively/emotionally constipated to walking in the rain and sitting with discomfort over a variety of things.
Storms — emotional or otherwise — eventually clear up with time, and umbrella or not, I have to keep walking each day.
After all, Sunday the sun shone again.
P.S. I could also twist a metaphor about always being ready for a shit storm, but I’m trying to be positive here. Work with me people, work with me…
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Aw, I’m sorry you were having it rough! At least it seems like you got some self reflection out of it, which is good…
It sounds to me like you’re pushing yourself too hard to turn out material. Take a break. Give yourself permission to not write for a week. Just jot down notes or thoughts in a journal, but don’t publish anything. Go to some of the prompt websites I use and play around with them. They’ve jump-started my creative juices a bunch of times. Coming up with a good idea to write is kind of like an erection. Either it happens or it doesn’t and if it’s not happening, pressuring the poor thing usually doesn’t help. You’ll make it through this. We all do. Go easy on yourself.
I guess I wasn’t that clear, in that this really had nothing to do with writing. It was simply another factor in the equation 😉
Writing is really the last thing that I need put pressure on myself about right now. That doesn’t mean I still don’t, but big picture, it’s not a big deal. You’re right. It happens when it happens. Sometimes I just need to vent.
Maybe it was the alignment of the planets affecting all of us, or maybe my moon was just in feces, but last week was a real suckfest for me, too. And that’s why God created booze. Oh, look. It’s cocktail hour — someplace. 😉 Hope you’re back in fighting form soon, my friend.
I often wonder what happened to the girl who rushed out to dance and sing when it poured suddenly on those hot summer days. Rain now? Eeek! Run inside, take shelter, I may melt! I may die! I may never survive! What happened? Why are we like that? It’s rain. Just plain old water. And often it’s a welcome treat that comes in and relieves us from an excess of humidity.
Don’t you wish you could just channel into your inner child and just start skipping and chanting la-la-la-la whenever it rains? Like you said, at least the bird poop missed you!
Why don’t we do that more? I say we bring that stuff back. I don’t wear makeup anyway, so who really cares, right? 😉
I know! No make-up on my face either (surprise surprise) and I don’t even do anything to my hair (actually rain does wonders to my mop) so I just don’t understand why I lose it if it rains and I don’t have a raincoat!
I vote for a new movement IMPOSING singing and dancing in the rain. No pun intended. Oh, maybe a little.
I always feel better after a good storm has passed. Glad the rain was able to help you.
Bird shit missing you by two inches is indeed a thing to be celebrated.
Okay, this might be one of my favorite things you’ve ever written. Seriously.
Really? I actually didn’t really like it that much and kind of regretting putting it up, so your comment makes me feel a tiny bit better. Thank you 🙂
I would say that being missed by bird poop is a big positive sign that things are on their way to geting better!
Funny thing about Michigan, the emotional storms that come and go are about as predictable as the thunderstorms and as fierce. Then on top of all that, there’s those Tigers :p
Hang in there, Abby. We’re out here rooting for you
I know, right? Baseball is usually my happy place. Not so much at this point…
Often, but not always, running or walking in the rain brings me peace. But sometimes it all turns into one big muddy mess, a muddle, and I can see how that would be a metaphor for a stormy time in our life. Sometimes our inner children need the rain, but sometimes they need sunshine. And as adults, it simply is not within our power to give our inner children what they need every time. I hope you are feeling good today my friend. Passing you an umbrella . . .
When you mentioned the poop I instantly thought the Universe was trying to say (with it’s tongue firmly planted in it’s cheek) “You know, Abby, things could always be worse, just a couple more inches… ;o)”
Damn Universe! lol.
As Roger Miller once said, “Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet”.
I’m glad you kept on walking, my beautiful friend.
You always do.
Much love xo
Yea, was one fabulous day when I discovered we all had waterproof skin. Rain and teardrops are great cleansers.
Love this post and love you, Abby.
It was raining when I left yoga yesterday, and I actually enjoyed it as I walked to the car. I think if I hadn’t been in such a peaceful place I would have flailed about like I might melt and sprinted. So that sort of ties into this… maybe I need more coffee.
This is MY post. Sorry everyone else, but Abby wrote this just for me. I cannot begin to tell you the comfort I had while reading this–just beautiful. It’s the perfect metaphor for how I have been feeling lately and I love the small miracle of not getting dumped on by that bird. You are marvelous. Your honesty helps others be honest with themselves. Never doubt that, please. xo
When I run in the rain, I’m all careful not to step in puddles so I don’t get soaked. I eventually end up stepping in a puddle and my shoes fill with water. Then I realize, I’m totally wet, so who cares any more and suddenly I can run again with abandon. (if abandon is a slow, short girl). Sometimes, you just gotta step in it to get through it. Great post.
They say crying is good for you. Washes out the toxins. I don’t know who they are but they sound mean. I hope you feel better and that your hair dried in a non-frizzy way.
There with ya, girl. I have been walking around in that storm, crying in the rain lately. I am currently trying to pull myself out of it by my bootstraps. Just keep walking. We’ll hopefully get there together.
I like walking in the rain. Not pouring rain, but a steady drizzle can feel cleansing.
Crying in the rain sounds cathartic. I should give that a try.
I think I saw your tweet about this. All I can say is I have been there. And will be again. Such is the hand we’re dealt.
It just goes to show that you can prepare for the worst that can happen, weather wise at least, but sometimes when it happens it turns out not to be as bad as you feared, and indeed, surviving it can be therapeutic. ( if it doesn’t kill you mind.) Anyway I’m glad you survived in one piece. As for the bird shit, well it just goes to show there is more happening above us than we can ever imagine. Glad you survived it all and that Sunday was better
Thank you for such a thoughtful comment. I’m so, so glad you’re back in the blogging world.
It’s funny how the universe works. You’ve got to love the rain and the bird crap all at the same time. I would say something like, “Just be happy and turn that frown upside down,” but that would be obnoxious and completely unhelpful. I know because it never works for me.
I usually hate being caught in the rain but sometimes, it is exactly what I need. But I hope the sun stays out for a bit for you now.
the bird shit is for sure God’s Sense of Humour!!! try running in the rain, that is laced with all levels of freedom. I wrapped my life in a perfect plan, even packed for rain (just in case) and then had to survive the shock storm of my child’s unexpected diagnosis with smith magenis syndrome! Life smacks you in the face with new paths all the time, just when you have carefully drawn the map to meander down the one you planned for! BUT THERE IS A STRENGTH TO BE FOUND ONLY THROUGH SURVIVING DOWNPOURS! love and hugs xxxxxx
great to find you via the weekend linkup…i am at 3 and 5 xxxxxx
Storms are perfect for tears. I hope the rain washed away some of the bird poop in your life.
I love this!! It must have been a very liberating walk!!