Riding the Waves...

Last night my husband and I were having a discussion over some random incident regarding someone else and I said, "That just bugs the hell out of me." To which he replied, "Lately EVERYTHING bugs the hell out of you." He's right, 4 months ago I was happier than I'd ever been in my entire life. Lately though, I've been critical of everything and everyone I come in contact with. I looked at my husband and said, "I think I'm getting old and crotchety." To which he surmised that maybe it was a mid-life crisis BUT more than likely it was because of a personal issue I've been wrestling with lately. He said, "I have no doubt that's what's got you in such a blue funk."

I've been keenly aware of my bitter nature lately... If I hadn't been tuned into it I might've bitten my husbands head clean off, for even suggesting I'm anything less than wonderful to be around.

I understand quite well, how cyclic my life can be. It's not a manic thing, but more of a wave riding kind of ordeal. Allow me to explain... You know that feeling when you wade out into the ocean, just past the breakers, so your just deep enough in the water that your shoulders can feel the sun? You stand there and wait for the next swell and just as it approaches you push off from the ocean floor and get that giddy weightless feeling, as your body is carried up and over the crest of the wave... Then you come back down and wait for the next swell so you can enjoy the giddiness all over again. Sometimes though, you come down on a shell perhaps and hurt your foot... Or sometimes a wave comes along that's bigger than you predicted and you didn't quite push off hard enough and the results are uncomfortable because you end up with salt water up your nose and down your throat.... According to this metaphor I'm currently choking and spitting up salt water. I know I'm going to recover, get my footing and resume my wave jumping position. For now though, I think I'll fight my way through the tugging undertow... Make my way back up to the beach and rest on my towel until the salt doesn't burn my nose and throat anymore. Then I can remind myself of that beautiful weightless feeling of flying and head back into the ocean.