Grumpy

Here's what I'm thinking about today. I am grumpy. I am feeling small and petty. Angry. Tired. Sore. Fed up.

Now... some of this may be attributed to my still-healing, still very dilated, still predominantly unworking right eye and the resultant scabbing, tearing, aching, itching, and throbbing one is likely to feel after emergency eye surgery.

However, truthfully, just as much - if not more - has to do with my own insecurities and human imperfection. My own fears, worries, and lack of impenetrable self-love.

Mind you, I've met very few people who actually possess impenetrable self-love... but when you do come across those folks (even those who, while not impenetrable, have it in such large supply they look well-stocked and somewhat impervious) - WOWIE! They can really knock your socks off. Especially when they're nice people to boot.

No... today I am just left thinking about my own frailty and how this comes into contact with my daily ins and outs, ups and downs.

I feel small today. I'm really not sure how else to put it. I have lost a sense of larger connection and am very aware of my own negative emotions and tiredness... my sense of giving up and feeling exhausted and somewhat outdone by life at the moment.

I don't consider this pretty. I don't consider it particularly inspiring. But I trust it's not totally unfamiliar to some of you. And I hope that, in being honest, I can provide us the space to heave a collective sigh of relief and have it be okay that we are less than perfect today. One might even say ugly.

Sometimes it's nice to know you can stand in the middle of a collective stare, naked and honest, and know it's okay to be less, to be a work in progress, rather than feeling like a stubby troll who must stand in the corner and wait for the world around it to notice and take pity.

If we really are to accept one another, I suppose, it should be with eyes open. With acknowledgement of underbellies and skeletons and mistakes. Maybe there's strength in the knowing... or in the openness and willingness to be imperfect.

Maybe it's just personally helpful, today, to imagine a group of fellow works in progress being able to embrace the ugly, grumpy, stubby troll that is sometimes me... and to know it's ultimately okay.