Yesterday was a day in platitudes: making the bed became a symbolic gesture synopsized in one brief if/then idea; gardening the spirit of renewal. I feel the song on the radio like an adolescent and feel the season's change, a verge in my emotional being. This would be good, so in touch with the world around me, but I have learned that one thing leads to another for me.
There is no enjoying self awareness and emotional reactivity, even though with it comes energy and creativity, when, deep within my mind I know what follows. A certain gloom or absence of any emotion, tiredness, fatigue and lack of interest or pleasure in much of anything.
Child-rearing can be hard and full of small regrets, some of which become larger. I will say I regret losing my temper or raising my voice with Rosa and Mikey. I have this nagging belief that over time they will learn to try and judge the mood of their parent which a child should not have to do. I feel that at times I sound too harsh and of course there were better words to use, better ways.
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