January of my Soul

I was ready this year.  I bought gifts early.  I had wrappings ready to go.  I planned out time to make a homemade gift or six.  I budgeted monies so as not to need to clear our pantry bare as funds ran low.  I was ready for the chaos of the holidays in Minnesota.

I just didn't plan for recovery time.  I'm an introvert.  For some, being an introvert means they would be just fine living alone or far away from other people.  Honestly, I could live that life for awhile, but it's not me.  For me, being an introvert means that, while I love spending time with people, especially during times of celebration, I expend amazing amounts of energy doing so.  Then I need to tuck myself away again and recharge.  Oops.  While I planned out everything else, I forgot about how short a "morning with no plans" can actually feel after a full day of running.  I didn't think through the need to have a few kind and thoughtful comments to share with those who were gracious enough to invite me and my family into their homes.  I overlooked how important it is to not only plan for things that I want to or must do, but to plan for time and flexibility to meet the needs of others I love.

So now, I'm in January.  I am feeling guilty for all I forgot about.  For all I did and said, and didn't do and didn't say, because I wasn't prepared for the work of the holidays.  I am having a 'January of my Soul' time. 

In Minnesota, January is a month of cold air, cloudy days and snow.  This January has been about a LOT of snow, which in theory is wonderful, but also tough to handle.  This funk is tough to handle.  Yuck.  It's work, and I want to be done with this work.  But that isn't my reality right now.  Not sure that I'll ever be, and I'm okay with that (if I have to be.  It beats the alternative.) 

I am now planning time and activities to recharge.  I am working to reorient my focus to really being thankful again.  And meaning it.

I am not there yet, though I understand that being aware of a problem is a big part of overcoming it.

Right now, my mantra; my recurring statement to my psyche; my awareness of my inner curmudgeon is: Life is a balance - you are on the far side of joy now, work to get back. 

I listened to experts discuss a variety of studies on how meditation and self-awareness can positively impact depression.  (To anyone reading this, I do NOT have depression.  January funk isn't a medical condition just a time to work through).  

I just returned the book, "Happiness," by Thich Nhat Hahn, to the library.  I've focused my meditation and prayer (same thing) on my breaths and my walking steps.  I am aware of all those negative thoughts that come into my head; those emotions that bubble up and make me feel less in control.  I acknowledge them and I let them pass, as best I can.  I know this helps.  I will do more now and tomorrow.  I will sit in the sunshine pouring in through the windows.  I will watch funny shows and movies.  I will run and play with my children.  I will snuggle and laugh with my husband.  I will be thankful each moment for that moment.

No moments are guaranteed in life.  Happiness is a choice I make with each breath.  Gratitude is a force that continually screams from my soul.  I'm ready to listen to it again, even though it is sometimes drowned out by the sound of my self whining.

I am thankful.  For everything, I am thankful.