Holding My Sadness, Softly

Today was a sad day.

Nothing new to make it that way, nothing changed. I’d followed my usual morning routine of yoga/energy work between breakfast and sitting down with my coffee to text friends while checking news and my social media. There was bread from my first sourdough starter in decades, rising and waiting to be baked.

But I was just— sad. I did my Duolingo, early. I tended the plants on my balcony. I had an idea for a blog post but I couldn’t seem to get started, so I thought about writing a funny one, as I hadn’t done that for a while. But I was still too sad.

I suppose it was hitting home just how long things would be different, how long before I could travel, how long before I would see my friend from the States, the one I was supposed to go to Costa Rica with last month. I had finally been free to travel the way I wanted to, and a year of it had reinforced that this was how I wanted to live. It will come again, I tell myself. I was lucky I was able to do what I have already done. I am so fortunate in my current situation, compared to so many. It doesn’t help.

I go for a nap, which is not part of my routine. I try to give structure to my life: up, shower, eat, coffee. Exercise, meditate, walk. Contact at least two people a day. Read. Write. Eat properly. Express gratitude.

I have never been fond of routine, and now it is all I have. There is no resolution to anything, in the strange world we live in. I have never been good at waiting.

A nap, a video chat with my sisters and niece, fresh warm bread at dinner. I am still sad.

Now I gather my sadness into my arms; acknowledge it, accept it. It is as much a part of me as humour, joy, enthusiasm, curiosity, love. I have been trying to push it down, so today it demands and pushes out the other feelings.

I will take my sad to bed with me, and let it flow through me. Perhaps tomorrow there will be room in my heart for other feelings. But when happiness comes I hope I will remember that it too, like the sadness, will pass, and I will remember to not hold it too tightly.