My, my. Where to begin? I have been wanting to write for weeks, but haven’t had much to say. At least, not much that would be worth reading. I mean, it’s hot outside now. And we don’t have air conditioning. So mostly, I’ve been wilting on the couch, drinking enough ice water to fill a small backyard pond, and complaining like crazy in my head. Or mostly in my head.
I’ve been trying, and failing, to find the balance between hoping for the future and losing any sense of contentment with the present. The last month, I’ve either been walking numbly through my days, without really engaging, just getting by, or I’ve been seething with resentment at the things that I couldn’t change. A week or so ago, I reached a point of recognition, and then grace. And then hope, real hope. As in, there is hope for my future! And grace for my now.
I will write again soon. When my brain cools off. And until then, I’ll keep reading books while I brine in my own sweat, and hopefully emerge unscathed (if slightly pickled) from this heat wave.
(linking up with Just Write.)