I’ve been feeling a little unsettled these days. Two months ago, I shared my intention for the winter season: to let things percolate. I’m usually so eager to dive into the next thing, to set the next goal, but this time, the goal was not to have a goal. Honestly, I’m starting to lose my mind.
Oh, I’ve been doing my homework—drinking lots of herbal tea and such—trying to be patient as I eye the pieces of life’s puzzle from an unsatisfying distance. But the truth is that I’m not much of a percolator, and I’m afraid that all of this sipping and seeping is driving me to a miserable existence marked by an increased consumption of simple carbohydrates.
The last thing I wanted tonight was a salad, and yet I had to have one. One more day without leafy greens, and I might have turned into a bowl of cereal. It was imperative that I build a bed of lettuce and spinach, slice a tomato, and fork my way through the vitamin-laden plate between baby-chasing intervals. “I feel like a goalie,” I said to Josh between bites. “Except there are about fourteen goals.” This is life with a crawler.
I felt a bit better about myself after the salad, but heck if that stopped me from polishing off some cake afterward. My soul may need salad, but my body wants frosting. Clearly, it’s time to start looking toward spring. Percolation may have served its purpose this winter, but I am ready to for something stronger.
I Want to Know
Does your soul need a salad? Do you have any idea what the hell that means?
Are you antsy to spring forward? Maybe in life in general?