Funkified.

I’ve been in a funk lately.

It started three weeks ago with one of the best experiences of my life, followed by way-too-little-sleep and then a really irritating situation.

It went like this: my best friend asked me to attend her birth. Honored, I did so. It was a really beautiful, exquisite and entirely normal experience (way different from her last birth and mine as well). I got home and went to bed at five in the morning knowing that my husband would take care of our daughter while I rested.

Unfortunately, one cannot tame the mouths of babes. I woke at nine, but I felt fine. We puttered around, expecting his sister and her boyfriend at some ambiguous time.

Until around noon, when I overheard a phone call between my husband and his brother, which started a rather irritating chain of events. It also helped reinforce some of my feelings about how some aspects of Christian culture can serve to undermine a person growing into maturity. But more on that later.

Then, an unexpected bill came. Because of that bill, we canceled our trip to Portland. Insert many, many, many household, spiritual, creative and relationship mishaps annnnnd…

I’m in a funk.

Honestly, this isn’t a pity post. I just…I had to tell someone, you know? Get it out of my system.

I don’t know what the plan is. The latter months of summer usually put me in a funky mood. My writing/painting slows down. My already-lethargic self finds it a Big Deal to even get off the couch (imagine last summer when I was 35 to 42 weeks pregnant–it was epic, I tell you).

Amidst the doldrums though, I still feel pretty good about myself. I’ve continued to eat well and lose weight. Since my exterior and interior realms are telling me to take it easy, I am. Walking instead of running, occasionally lifting weights instead of forcing it. I’m napping instead of bustling around doing all the domestic stuff. I’m writing short poetry instead of forcing a long narrative.

But notice the use of the word ‘force’—I wrote that stream-of-thought style—and that word is telling. Everything just feels…forced.

I think the best thing to do is keep persevering and wait it out. Sometimes that’s all there is to do. Summer/the suit of Wands/Fire burn me out, fast. I’m a naturally lower energy person and Autumn and Winter are my seasons. That’s fine. Perfect, even.

Everything moves in a cycle, and I know this will pass onto something new, yet older and deeper at the same time.

Until then, I’ll be on my couch.

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5 comments on “Funkified.

  1. Jax says:

    I’m with you re the seasons. NOTHING makes me lazy and sour like August. And it’s felt like August since the beginning of June! But hey! We got RAIN today!! Water fell from the sky! It was so beautiful.

    • We didn’t! It was so, so sad. J works 5 miles south of our home and got a huge thunderstorm. At our house…not a drop. Just clouds. I almost cried!

      And nothing sours me on living in Central Texas like August. Talk about loathing!

  2. JamieAnne says:

    I understand the funk. It’s the weather, the out of sync sleep cycle.
    Is there a herb that helps with the funk? I’m going to look into that. Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in a divit on my couch.

    • I’m about to experiment with some lavender and bergamot or neroli washes for the floors or walls. Lavender helps me feel peaceful and I like the deep citrusy smells of bergamot and neroli. Also, in one of my books (“The Complete Book of Essential Oils and Aromatherapy by Valerie Worwood) she mentions that neroli helps respiration and breathing, thereby having a calming/restorative effect.

      It’s definitely a project so I can say I’m “working” on something! And also an excuse to visit one of my favorite herb shops 🙂

  3. […] then the funk I was in slowly began to recede. Though it’s still hot as hell, I began collecting egg cartons to […]

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