I’ve Fallen and I Can’t Get Up

Have you ever found yourself sitting on your pity pot and somehow you just can’t find the strength to pull yourself up and off of that thing?

It’s okay, my friend, it’s okay.

At least I hope it is, because that’s where I’ve been today.

Out of the blue, I reached boiling point and exploded.  And it wasn’t pretty.  It was about things specific and life in general.  And it wasn’t every moment of this day I’ve been gifted but it was enough that I gotta tell ya, I don’t mind calling it a night early and hoping to start over again tomorrow.

I can honestly say it was all about my attitude.  Nothing extraordinarily awful or hard happened today.   As a matter of fact, it was more like what we call the “same ol’, same ol’.”  And well, I’ve had enough.

And to be honest, I’ve had enough with having had enough, so I need to change my attitude.

In this life I’ve led, there was always one guaranteed way to get my attitude to do a 180.

My Mama.

And silly me, often I’d call her, knowing what her reaction was likely going to be, but hoping against hope that maybe she’d rise up and go to swinging after whomever, whatever was bringing me down or messing with my groove.

But no.  She’d ask me how many poor baby’s I needed (we got that from a book we read many years ago), she’d give them to me, and then she’d get real.  She cared, she sympathized, but she also knew me better than anyone else ever.  She knew how long to poor baby me and when to shift gears and tell me to get over myself and move on.  Get beyond whatever “it” was.  Even when, like today, it was nothing specific–everything and nothing–all at once.

She probably would have told me I had some apologizing to do, and then she would have said for me get some rest.  That was her thing.  I need my sleep and Mama knew that.  But above all else, she would have made sure my attitude was called out and put in check.

My Mama was good at loving on us, but she was also good at calling us out.  Because she loved us.  She wanted us to be our “very best” selves, as she told us so often.  And she didn’t mind correcting us and *ahem* helping us figure out how to get there.

There was only one time that someone other than my Mama brought me off my pity pot–it was when one of my children was quite small.  That little bit of love climbed over in my lap and cuddled close.  It is nigh unto impossible to stay balanced on a pity pot when a wee one is sitting in your lap.

I’m rambling tonight.  I miss my Mama.  I wish I’d handled myself better today.  Not that certain situations didn’t call for action and response, but I wish those responses had been more grace-filled.  I am sure the Spirit of peace and love flew off in the moments of the fits I threw today.

And goodness knows, I need her back.

In the absence of my Mama on the other end of the phone line telling me to go to bed, I’m listening to the frogs play their instruments out back, with a cricket or two joining in.  I’m enjoying the break from the heat as the sun settles behind the trees and the stars begin to shine.  It’s quiet and I can almost hear her through the veil.

Go on to bed.  You need your sleep.  Happy pink and blue dreams, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite, happy turnovers…..tomorrow will be another day. 

 

Wishing you all a better tomorrow.  Love to all.

 

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