Undercurrent

Today has been one of those days.  To be honest, it has been more than today.  It has been weeks.

Sometimes as I’m going through my day, I imagine my moments as a facebook status update.  As I was driving home, I thought, “The problems of the world are too big for me today.”

But that didn’t fit.  The problems of the world are too big for me every day.

I’m worn a little thin right now. 

And it shows.

At work, I keep thinking, “if one more thing happens,” and one more thing does happen.  And another.  And another.  That’s the nature of my work, another thing always happens.

I’m unfocused and fuzzy.  It took me three days to send an email back to someone because I couldn’t word it properly.  The words simply didn’t make sense.

Last night, I was happy to have pulled off grilled cheese, chips and apple slices for dinner for me and the girls. 

I have been eating way too much Halloween candy.

I haven’t been sleeping well.

But there has also been this feeling of comfort.  I feel the quiet calm of joy.

I always thought joy meant the exuberance of happiness.  But happiness is usually only a fleeting feeling. 

Joy to me is that undercurrent of well-being.  The appreciation for the life around me.  The reassurance that my current state of chaos is not permanent.

Today, Lucy brought up an old picture of Billy and me.  It has been in a frame forever but she wanted to know all about it.  When it was, where it was, who took the picture.  It brought a smile to my face, remembering when it was taken, who I was back then. 

I felt that undercurrent rise to the surface.  The quiet calm of joy.