The valley that I was writing about in my last post swiftly became a peak and I had a fantastic weekend.
My intention in this post was to write about my weekend, but as I wrote that first sentence, I pictured a road with hills and valleys. And I was imagining running on that hill. And it just occurred to me (I’m sure this is obvious to so many of you…I just happen to be a little slow sometimes) what a beautiful metaphor hills and valleys are. It’s not just about the high point and the low point. It’s also about what it takes to get to the high point and how easy it is to coast into the low point.
I was talking to a friend yesterday about how I feel like my life in New York has these amazing highs (like this weekend with the Met and the beach and movies and Donut Plant), but it also has these incredibly deep lows and so it feels like I’m unhappy a lot…but then I also have so many moments when I want to pinch myself just to make sure I’m awake because my life is so dreamy. People say when you move to New York it takes years off of your life. I think that might be true.
Back to the metaphor. I’ve been really frustrated by this whole roller coaster that is my life right now. I feel a little bit manic, to be totally honest. I feel like every five minutes I’m saying to someone something along the lines of, “Wow, I’m glad that’s over,” or, “Wow, how did I get here again?” It’s exhausting.
In any case, it’s always to think rationally about these things when I’m happy as can be…we’ll see how I feel about it all the next time I hit a low point. I’m nothing if not realistic–or maybe that’s cynicism. (Such a fine line between the two…)
I don’t know if this is making sense to anyone but me…but is making sense to me. And as I always say, I started this blog to find myself and this is part of me.
And now, because I’ve been loving my recent music discoveries…another new song. (Well, new to me.)