A few days ago, I wrote to a close friend telling her I was lost in a fog. Unable to see very much, or think very well. Tired. Overwhelmed. Defeated.
I had an epiphany in the shower today. Foggy days, I discovered, was not the right way to think about these past few weeks.
I actually quite like foggy days. I love to walk in the fog, wrapped in that quiet stillness -- which is the exact opposite of how these past few weeks had been.
Here is a better way to describe the state of my mind: drowned in a parade. Deafening music. Clashing cymbals. Blinding colors. And the most annoying thing -- it doesn't go anywhere. I did not go anywhere.
I dislike parades in general. Especially this present one of dirty sinks, laundry, allergies, infections, broken bone. Oh my!
Strangely though, identifying the nature of this chaos has provided a great relief. A parade seems somewhat more manageable than dense, unyielding fog.
Oh, this is only a parade! I know what to do with parades.
and walk away.
Pompous and exaggerated. An unimpressive distraction.
There is more to life than this.
Soul, remember your destination,
where do you need to be?