I went bike riding, at times riding no-handed with my hands outstretched and with my eyes closed and with a silly grin on my face. It was a beautiful day, all sunshine, no clouds, but a decent wind so that I wasn't roasting. After riding our route, my best friend and I went and got slushies, talked and ended up playing Wii.
Then I headed to a cookout attended by some families we knew and some that were new. I ate my food, taking a decent amount of time, but then I excused myself and headed home to solitude.
Sweet, sweet, heavenly solitude.
And it's not like there was a ton of people around today, it's just that every once in awhile, I fall into one of *those* days. A day where I am in a funk, and if I tried hard enough, I could pull myself out of it, but it's so comfortable that I don't even try.
I get prickly, unsociable, and I tend to notice little things more and take them more deeply. I escape into solitude and take offense when people barge in on me. I devour whole books in one sitting and just. sit. still.
Maybe it's not even that. I don't get cranky, per se, it's more like I retreat within myself.
I satisfied my melancholy this morning by heading to the library for the first time in months. When I walk into a library, I like it to be still. Completely still. And I walk in between the rows, running my fingers along the bindings of the books, making as little sound as possible, almost as if I could hear the whisps of love, adventure, information, etc. that drift from each book as I touch it.
If one grabs my attention, I slowly pull it out, scan the back, flip through a couple pages, take a moment to decide what kind of book I'm in the mood for. Entertaining? Contemplative? Fluffy? Deep? Then, I put it back or take it with me.
The slow whish of the air conditioners working in the library keep my company as I make my lonely way through the library aisles.
Even if you don't know me well, maybe that showcases what one of *those* days looks like for me.
I find my alter-ego, or rather, the one that's hidden deep inside that I keep on a very short leash {my true *Eeyore* coming out maybe?}, coming out and proclaiming, "Give me a day. A day in a month. A day to make you relax, to think deeper, to simply breathe in and out. To be something other than happy and joyful at all times."
And I don't know where that crosses into self-pity or something near it, but it's easy when it's one of *those* days to get caught up in myself.
Instead of caught up in Him.
Although He created all parts of me, my sinful human being still exists and it takes advantage of *those* days. It makes feel as if the world has no business interfering in my solitude and that others have ulterior motives in what they say and do, it makes me feel as if my need to be alone supersedes other's needs, that I'm the most important person. A spirit of want replaces a spirit of thankfulness.
But it's also in moments like this that I realize how life is not perfect. There are holes, there are moments that aren't so happy, there are times when we wonder what's going on.
Moments that make me SO happy that this life is not all.
Sometimes I get so caught up in the those rustling-leaves-and-perfect-wind-and-closed-eyes-and-ruffled-hair-and-hands-outstretched moments, that I think that this life is pretty amazing.
And it is.
But how much more amazing will my true home be?
Beyond anything that I can express, that's for sure.
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