Some days I just feel as though I’m invisible. After thinking about that statement, I have decided it’s my own paranoia. And, wherever did that trait come from? The reality is that people have their own lives, and they don’t have to pay attention to, or even respond to me; and maybe that’s a good thing.
I’m also considering that today is a bit gloomy. We’ve just had a decent rain, for which I should be very grateful. The hibiscuses love it. The little yellow roses that I potted the other day are really responding well to the rain. It’s still cloudy and humid. The temp is a moderate 76 degrees, and it really looks like it could rain again. Hank is pacing, because he wants me to get up and do something to entertain him. He wants to play. At his age, it’s a miracle he can still retrieve the little toy that he so dearly loves. Other than that, it’s eerily quiet.
Quiet doesn’t bother me. I do not have to have background noises or loud music to fill in the blanks. On these days, I still feel that I’m either dead or invisible. Music helps me go somewhere else. I love it when my family of hawks are on the hunt in the “alley-way” between houses. I know they are signaling each other that there is something to be gained. But today, it just helps drown out the tinnitus.
I think that the quiet and the invisible status are leading me somewhere. This could be a big benefit to me. Being as spiritual as I am (and not in the “religious” sense), I could just say anything I want and move anywhere I want without being noticed. This could make it easy to take a walk on the wild side….mentally. There could be some surprises there; and maybe they’d be welcomed.
On the balmier side, I’m just in a funk. I feel as though no one hears me unless I fart. That’s a Baby-boomer term for “Things just aren’t quite right” (to put it mildly). This will be rectified later in the day, when my dog, (who loves me regardless) will acknowledge me as his best friend, and my very being will let me know that I am worthy of all the good that comes my way. Still later, my love will saunter in the door, and make my day “on the dark side” go away. I’ll be all good again. Why can’t I see that for myself from the beginning of these episodes? I know everyone has these days. How I wish someone would join me, so that we could laugh at our “Grand Funk”. After all … I’m not the only one, and only human at that. This too shall pass.
