An hour of my own; that's all it takes to make me happy on this Sunday. Usually I retreat to a room and close myself away, losing myself in a book or magazine. But this morning I wanted to be out in the fresh air, like the flowers and the buds and the trees. I wanted to enjoy the sun's rays on my face and feel the light breeze on the back of my neck.
So I decided to stick to my recent resolution of trying to walk a little bit every day. And you know what? I did it for sixty minutes, and It felt glorious. Freeing. Empowering. Before I went, I wondered whether to wear earbuds and listen to some music, but I'm glad I didn't. The birds that sometimes drive me nuts with their chirping didn't today. I got to say "good morning" to the few people I encountered along the way who actually made eye contact. I also wasn't so buried in myself and my own world for a change, so I saw when a little boy's ball went bouncing toward the street. I was able to catch it.
At the halfway point, I debated whether to get an ice coffee or not. Would the calories undo my physical work? Did I really need it? In the end, I decided to be kind to myself and let myself have it. It quenched my thirst and made me happy, so why shouldn't I drink it?
I wondered what my husband and daughter were making at her art class as I walked by myself. I was glad I had asked him to take her in the first place. Why shouldn't he take a turn? I smiled as I thought about them getting glue and paint all over the place. Usually I would be fighting to keep my cool and my patience. With a little time to myself, though, my nerves finally felt calm and at peace.
Yesterday I found out that my hormone levels are practically menopausal, which is not great news when you're only 39. My naturopath looked at me and said, "No wonder you've feeling extra anxious and down lately!"
It was a validation of sorts. I came home to tell my husband that maybe I wasn't crazy after all, that there really was something wrong with the hormones inside me. He looked at me and said, "I never thought you were crazy. Don't call yourself that. At least now we have more information, so we can figure out how to fix it."
And you know what? He's right. And I'm incredibly lucky that I have someone so supportive of my mental health. It will probably be a while before I feel better and more like myself again, but taking time out to be alone, reflect, and gather my strength helps me face the day and my family with a lighter heart. My best friend and my best girl deserve that. I do, too.
When I was nearly home again, I came across these lovely little yellow flowers planted in a neighbour's garden. They looked so cheerful and determined, and I thought to myself: my soul is like those flowers. It's been beaten down and tossed about by the elements, the rain and wind that comes into all our lives, but it still wants to persevere, to bloom, to show its face to the sun. To become what's it meant to be all along.
So I decided to stick to my recent resolution of trying to walk a little bit every day. And you know what? I did it for sixty minutes, and It felt glorious. Freeing. Empowering. Before I went, I wondered whether to wear earbuds and listen to some music, but I'm glad I didn't. The birds that sometimes drive me nuts with their chirping didn't today. I got to say "good morning" to the few people I encountered along the way who actually made eye contact. I also wasn't so buried in myself and my own world for a change, so I saw when a little boy's ball went bouncing toward the street. I was able to catch it.
At the halfway point, I debated whether to get an ice coffee or not. Would the calories undo my physical work? Did I really need it? In the end, I decided to be kind to myself and let myself have it. It quenched my thirst and made me happy, so why shouldn't I drink it?
I wondered what my husband and daughter were making at her art class as I walked by myself. I was glad I had asked him to take her in the first place. Why shouldn't he take a turn? I smiled as I thought about them getting glue and paint all over the place. Usually I would be fighting to keep my cool and my patience. With a little time to myself, though, my nerves finally felt calm and at peace.
Yesterday I found out that my hormone levels are practically menopausal, which is not great news when you're only 39. My naturopath looked at me and said, "No wonder you've feeling extra anxious and down lately!"
It was a validation of sorts. I came home to tell my husband that maybe I wasn't crazy after all, that there really was something wrong with the hormones inside me. He looked at me and said, "I never thought you were crazy. Don't call yourself that. At least now we have more information, so we can figure out how to fix it."
And you know what? He's right. And I'm incredibly lucky that I have someone so supportive of my mental health. It will probably be a while before I feel better and more like myself again, but taking time out to be alone, reflect, and gather my strength helps me face the day and my family with a lighter heart. My best friend and my best girl deserve that. I do, too.
When I was nearly home again, I came across these lovely little yellow flowers planted in a neighbour's garden. They looked so cheerful and determined, and I thought to myself: my soul is like those flowers. It's been beaten down and tossed about by the elements, the rain and wind that comes into all our lives, but it still wants to persevere, to bloom, to show its face to the sun. To become what's it meant to be all along.
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