Thursday, June 13, 2013
I came across this handsome turtle on my walk this morning, his or her back end covered in duckweed from the pond right next to the path where we met up. I know this turtle, I have seen it before, its shell more shiny than any I have ever seen, almost lacquered looking. I was glad to see it.
I took its picture and went on my way and by the time I came back down the path, he or she had disappeared into the woods and once again I thought about all the creatures which may see me pass by which I never even realize are there, registering or not registering my presence because it does not matter in the least to them.
I feel flat and uninspired today and on the verge of tears for no reason. In my head I go through the litany of all the ways I fail, that I am not good enough and I try to dismiss them, get on with it, but the list stays there in place, ready to be roused at any moment, ready for me to begin to tick the items off again, one by one. The garden overgrown already, the ridiculous annoyances I projected onto my grandson yesterday, the meal I made last night, my inability to go out into the world and engage with it, my weight, my (lack of) writing, the mildew in the bathrooms, the words I could not say to my mother as she died, the words I could not say to her when she was alive, and on and on and on. It never ends. The items loop and loop, like an iPod with twenty songs on continual shuffle.
And then the next list begins. Things to do to get ready to leave tomorrow and things to do to get ready to go out of town again next weekend, something which should be so much fun, a trip down south my sister-in-law has arranged to celebrate her birthday and my husband's and all of it is just overwhelming to me and so add to the first list ungrateful bitch, silly, silly depressive bitch, self-centered neurotic woman.
Grow up, I tell myself. Grow up, get up, just deal with it all.
I think of places I have been happy, I think of places I feel as if I have left pieces of my soul for safekeeping. They are all by the water, they are all hidden from sight. I am homesick right now for each and every one of them. There are creatures there and trees too, and my ghostly bits of soul do not disturb them one bit. They go on their way, duckweed on their butts, they do not miss me at all nor should they, even as I long to be hidden among them.