It's not as though anything big has happened or anything significant has gone wrong. There are little things: the ironing board that fell on my foot, the less-than-supportive comments of my co-workers, the horn-blowing fool behind me on a packed street, the canceled writing session.... all a bunch of little things that individually ~ and even collectively ~ amount to very little. Yet that sense of 'lost' ~ of being adrift while all around me are sailing on by with a sense of purpose.
Maybe that's it ~ the lost sense of purpose. Asking those deep answerless questions. Seeking what truly, at the moment, isn't there.
Then I go for a walk in the neighborhood. Standing on a slight elevation, I turn back toward home and THIS is what I see. The mountain framed by trees. Looking like the top of a sno-cone. The beauty and intimacy of it ~ with no one else around to see it or me ~ takes my breath away. I pull out my phone to snap a slightly-out-of-focus picture and realize that sense of lost, of giving up, of blah disappears. In its place is a peaceful re-connection with awe, with the Ineffable, with Ruah ~ the Breath of Life. I am grateful.
What do you do when the blahs hit? How do they feel? What gets you past giving up?