A funky week

I've been in a bit of a funk for the last several days. I claimed I didn't know what was wrong with me, even though I had my suspicions.

I wish I could say that I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and shook off the funk, but instead, I muddled through the first three days of this week, moping around, grudgingly going through the motions, and eating way too much of the wrong things. Eating poorly is counter-productive, and I know it, but I honestly could not seem to help myself. It was bad.

Yesterday, I finally made myself sit down to write a column, which I need to file tomorrow, and confirmed what I'd been suspecting since last week: I really didn't have anything amusing to write about. Life has been chugging along here, and it's been fine, but not all that entertaining. I've been focused on Abby, her changed diagnosis, and how I'm starting to do things differently because of it. It's been very exciting to me, and interesting, but not exactly lighthearted fare for a general audience to read on a Saturday morning.

Finally, I decided on a topic from my running list of column ideas. I forced myself to start it yesterday, and when I went back and looked at it this morning, it was okay, and I was able to finish it. As soon as I completed my draft, my mood lifted, immediately and unmistakeably. Struggling with a little writers' block was really weighing me down.

Not coincidentally, I realized last night I had to reorient myself spiritually, yet again. I'm starting to think it's a constant thing; that I'm not suddenly going to automatically point to true north without continual adjustments on my part. I knew this once; why do I lose sight of it so often now?

At any rate, the column is written, I'm feeling better and more grounded, and I'm not eating poorly today, either. Everything is connected to everything else, even writing, prayer and food.