Worn

There are just moments that life seems to wear me down more than I can bear.
This is not so much depression - An Moddey Doo, The Black Dog - that is an old if somewhat unwelcome friend - as it is a bone-wearying sense of exhaustion with the matters of life itself.

Is it any one thing?  Not particularly that I can think of - sure, there are particular things that could be contributing to it - the issues with getting the Van fixed of course, or another week of trying to stem the leaking dam that I call work, or 10 other things that I could point to and say "That is it.  That is the thing that is bringing me down" - but that would simplifying the issue and even in a sense misrepresenting the issue.

It is that moment when one is over-run by the need for tears and one has no idea why, that the world seems incredibly sad although nothing sad has happened, that a certain hollowness about one's life and what one is doing - and there is no definable reason why this should be so.

Cause and effect.  I live and work in a world of cause and effect, of root cause and actions that correct and prevent the root cause.  Yet here there seems to be no readily defined cause or action that can be taken.  Just the sense that something is not right with one's world and there is no discerenable reason or answer for it.

Were I to look down deep enough I think I would find a cause for this feeling - but looking down deep enough almost entails a certain requirement to take action.  And I do not know if I have the spirit  for that this day.

The day is coming of course, so I will tuck my worn down feelings and sense of sadness into that convenient pocket where I store such things while I get through my day.  But even as I get ready to do this, there is that sad and somewhat wistful feeling that these are not going away, that no matter how I try to pretend they do not exist they are still waiting to be recognized and moved forward with.

We cannot always address such things, but neither can we pretend that they do not exist.