Just the other day at the park, I was telling Nina (in the simplest way I could) the changing of the seasons. How some things have to die and decay, or go into hibernation for awhile, to return again when conditions are more favourable. Leaves fall from the trees, the grass dies, birds go south for winter.
Without airing my dirty laundry in public, I will simply say that I am in a season of death and decay. Things are hard. I feel like I am forever pushing the same rock up the same hill, day after day. I feel shitty more often than I feel good. I don’t think that my contributions are making the difference that I want them to, personally or professionally. Sometimes I think that I want too much, that I want more from life than what was allotted to me. Or worse, that I have reached my quota of bad choices, and that I’m supposed to be learning a lesson from all of this.
I feel guilty about feeling bad, because I know that I have a lot of things that others could only wish for. I know that people of the Philippines are suffering immensely right now, and sometimes I feel like a huge turd for even daring to feel anything but grateful.
I know that even in a period of death and decay, there are good things. The trees shed their leaves, the foliage dies, and the birds fly away. But still there is sledding and snowmen and Christmas. There are little slivers of light that show through. Nina is too little to completely understand adult feelings. She understands the concept of being “sad” or “frustrated” or “happy” (thanks to Barney et al) but I don’t know how to explain that I am happy to have her and to be with her, but I’m not happy in general.
I don’t want to teach her that she should hide her bad feelings so that she doesn’t upset other people. Faking it, going through the motions, just sucks. The best I can do right now is to try and teach her to fall down with a little grace. And more importantly I want to teach her to get back up again.