it’s that time of the year again. and by that i mean: february.
for better or worse, the fresh, hope-filled pace of the new year is beginning to stabilize into a familiar, predictable rhythm that echoes of status quo. that glorious, soul-searched balance so carefully restored over the holidays is slowly-but-surely tilting in favor of over-commitment and busy-ness. and those whimsical winter warm-and-fuzzies have long-since drifted away, replaced instead by restless yearnings for the sweet, dewy sunshine only a distant spring can bring.
yep. the february funk has officially descended upon our household.
routine is returning. to-do lists are brimming. distractions are tugging. weather is numbing. work is demanding. children (and potty training plans) are demanding louder. all the while, 2017’s well-intentioned resolutions are ticking-and-tocking on the cerebral clock — a casual reminder that those wonderful world-conquering plans of mine are currently gathering dust.
in the wake of a holiday season marked by possibility, peace and promise, the unremarkable normalcy of february can be tough. so tough, in fact, that i’m already starting to exude (with relative ease) an ethos that lacks gratitude. a default disposition fueled more often by stress than calm. a tendency to complain instead of praise. a slant towards expectation instead of appreciation. and, sadly, a subconscious determination to ‘just get through the days’ rather than seek out the nuggets of beauty nestled amidst the craziness-that-is-life.
to be frank, it’s that last one that really gets me.