I used to think it was a passive option. Now, I’m not so sure. There does seem a power in it. It’s a choice after all. An act of autonomy. This is how it is and I accept it, whether I like it or not. I choose to accept this. I will live with it, as it is. Like these Christmas time blues. I want to run from them, fight them, smother them. How about if I just sit with them, look at them, cry with them, and about them, and then just let them pass? Might that work? Boxing Day and I’m almost over it. My back is less tight. And, though the dark outside persists, I am ready to open, and to work.
