Not the Best, Not the Worst
Admittedly, things were a tad cloudy today. A tinge melancholy. My draft divorce agreement landed in my inbox and the weight of it heaved a mountain on my shoulders, forcing me to sink deep into the safety of my cozy office chair while I tried to plow through the to-do list.
It wasn’t the best day, and it wasn’t the worst. It just was.
I’ll take it.
Mind
I stayed up too late last night. I went to see a band that I love and I have no regrets. But morning came quickly, and vitality was not a feeling I experienced upon waking. What I did feel was the honesty of being in my 40s—gone are the days of staying up all night, washing my face anew and going to work the next day as if no revelry has taken place. For this reason, too, I felt heavy.
(Sidebar: I think today’s lesson, friends, is that our decisions affect our future. But let’s be real: if there’s a concert I want to see, I’m going. A tired Wednesday is a minimal price to pay for seeing live music on a school night. Period.)
My biggest mental flex of the day came after work at an after-hours gathering with a small crowd of exceptionally smart creators and ideators. Meeting new people feeds me energy, and this group provided a healthy dose of stimulating conversation and good vibes.
Nothing much more to report on today’s mind front—I plowed through the day, got my work done, made a few lists, and missed morning meditation because I elected to have that extra 30-minutes of sleep. (Hashtag WORTH IT.)
Body
Heavy.
Tired.
Lots of sitting (and melting into that cozy office chair).
Body didn’t get a ton of love, unfortunately, though I did manage to knock out about 10 squats in my office with the door closed. (It counts.)
Spirit
I miss things. I’ve always been nostalgic like that. I miss the playground from my elementary school. I miss my Grandmother’s hands. I miss my body before having kids.
I miss the busyness of a full house. I miss tangled up sock feet on movie night. I miss the pile of book bags thrown right inside the front door. I miss the smell of dinner being cooked by someone else.
I miss my boys. I miss D’s dirty feet and G’s endless questions. I miss the warmth of them. I miss the chaos of them. I miss everything about them. I miss them so much it hurts.
There’s a a Ben Platt song called Happy To Be Sad. My kids groan when I put it on (it’s definitely a shade too “pop” for our taste), but I absolutely love it. When I think about how much I miss my boys, I’m so happy to be sad—happy for the love between us, happy for the unbreakable bond we share, happy for the opportunity to love something so much that it makes your heart literally ache, happy for the gift of being their mom.
Clearly, spirit has been heavy today, too. (Hashtag WORTH IT)
Not everyday can be a valley-to-peak climb. Some days (most days) are simply average, unmemorable passings of time.
But here’s something I know about being LK: I will wear myself out searching for the extraordinary in everything, so even on a dull day (when I’m a tad slower than usual due to my late bedtime) I’ll hunt down a way to witness greatness. Today’s greatness included an October sunset, a really beautiful glass of port, a strong new business connection, a bit of charcuterie, a hug from a special one, a pep talk from a trusted one, and—hopefully—a damn good night’s sleep.
Until tomorrow,
lk
Photo: Set list from said show 🤘🏾
