Run

Yesterday night I woke up in the middle of the night with a burning sensation in my throat and an ear ache. Sick. Again. For the umpteenth time this year. I was so weary of being sick that I started to cry. Then I thought about how hours before I got a rather depressing email from the photographer at my wedding who reported no remorse for taking NO PICTURES OF MY FAMILY outside of the temple. For pete's sake what was she doing?!? She was there. And why would we make everyone standout in the cold December day if we did not want a picture of all of them? So I thought about that again and then cried some more. My body was hot and I felt dehydrated, so I went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. I sat for a while not feeling sleepy, only feeling discouraged. I woke up my husband who is wiser than me, who offered me medicine. I was inconsolable but agreed to take some and fell back asleep.

I awoke this morning still feeling sick, still discouraged about the pictures, to the news that a fertilizer plant exploded. This only added to my sorrow. I wasn't ready yet to be happy. So tears bubbled to the surface as I read about the death toll. I wanted something like that to shock me and put my wedding picture cares into perspective, but it didn't. How could I not have a way to remember everyone who was there? I wanted to have a picture of my nephew Cooper not looking into the camera. I wanted the red nose of my aunt that I never see to be in a frame. I wanted a photo of aunts and uncles that I had only met that day but that I already felt close to because they were a part of someone that I loved. Inconsolable. I didn't want to be happy.

Then the wise husband said I should go on a run. I didn't really want to because I was feeling sick, but I was also sick of feeling sad so I hoped his philosophy of endorphins would be valid. I started walking because I didn't feel like running and we live right next to a hill. I just walked. Already the sunshine was doing me good. It was a deceptive sunshine as I was still wearing a jacket, and sweat pants to stay warm. But my mood was slightly elevating. I felt the warmth of the rays dust my face, almost in a taunting way. But the warmth gave me a taste of something so alive and brilliant.

Next after walking 3-4 blocks I started to slowly jog. And I noticed flowers. I love flowers. The don't really have any purpose other than esthetic. Maybe inadvertently they help with honey, which I also love, but mostly they exist to smell good and beautify the earth. There were a stone wall that looked hand-made in the best kind of thrown together manner. On the stone wall there were small purple flowers, dark purple, light purple, and medium purple all together in a row. The flowers had green, long stems that made them hang off the hand-made wall. And I smiled to myself as the light from the sun and the colors of the plants created a beautiful image in my scope of perspective. My mood elevated yet again.

The sense of smell is tied to the memory. Turns out they are processed in the same place in the brain. Memory and smell. I jogged past an elementary school and the smell was very familiar. How could that be? Then I thought about little bodies. Packed together in classrooms. With cheap air fresheners  And the smell took me back to Mrs. Thurber's third grade class. Plum I believe it was. A plum air freshener. To me this smell is always associated with a year that I discovered my creativity. A year where my aspirations changed from having the most friends on the playground to being a writer when I grew up. All from smelling an elementary school. 

On my way back from my jog I ran past the school again. And seeing the kids at recess made me happy. 7 years old. A little boy with hair dyed blue. Why? I thought. Why blue? Then an overheard conversation. Something about powers he had that he was managing. Imagination! I miss using mine. I think it is a friend that I have forgotten about. I wanted to play with them. And imagine that I had powers too. I wanted to roll down the hill and not worry about pictures, or explosions, or money, or the future. Sure there were worries at 7 but it was fun to believe that you could be a writer. And weave stories all day long that were created by a vivid imagination. I craved to work with children and pretend with them. Suddenly being a teacher seemed like the best idea. My mind quickly dismissed it. Impractical. Yet my mood was improved, transcended to a different time with different joys and worries. The run worked! 

I am still sad about the pictures, Texas, and being sick, and I feel overwhelmed about the future in all it's uncertainties. But I highly recommend going on a run if you want to jumpstart the process to finding happiness again.