Out beyond the large window in the living room, where I’m writing this, the day is gray. Gray sky, sometimes darker with misty rain, sometimes a lighter shade, the color of waiting for rain. It’s as if gray has been washed over everything, the very air gray. The birds–we have lots of birds with the temperatures balmy again–were flocking the feeder and trees in the backyard, twittering and singing and making a raucous, and suddenly they have gone quiet. A strange silence has fallen. No bird at the feeder, no bird in the air and no bird sounds, no sound at all but my dear dog snoring beside me and the mantle clock ticking. It’s rather like I’ve entered the Twilight Zone.
My imagination pops up with: “Is something about to happen? Or did something big happen that I didn’t hear? Did an atomic bomb go off and I just don’t know, sitting here as I am on my recliner couch in my little suburbia paradise? Has an alien ship sucked up all the birds, and is it coming for us next?”
The day on a whole seems odd to me. It feels silent within, and not quiet silent but a dissatisfying one. It is dissatisfaction with my performance–with my abilities, or lack of abilities. Why can’t I organize and get things done? By ‘things’, I mean more writing, more repairs and upkeep, more giving of self and dealing with responsibilities, more efficient use of time.
And I have written myself to the issue–Time. I struggle with the use of time, all the time.
Why can’t I seem to clear the dining table of papers and keep it clear? And the same goes for the kitchen counter. And why do I have to do all this stuff–keeping passwords straight and cleaning dog hair and the garage, oh, my goodness?!
It is bad enough that I struggle with the use of time, but then there are forces beyond myself that suck away my time–Why do we have to have tax accounting? Why do we have to keep records? Who made up such time-sucking requirements and inflicted them on the rest of us? (This can be traced back to James Madison, one of the country’s Founding Fathers.)
And then there are all the requirements of living–time that must be spent on upkeep and maintenance. I once read the opinion that life is 90% maintenance. Surely this is not far wrong.
I lifted my eyes from the computer screen and looked outside. It is still gray and silent. The dog still snores beside me and the mantle clock still ticks, and time moves on. My spirit chuckled and then I found myself smiling.
So often I forget that I am living a human life on earth, not in heaven. I forget that struggle with time and everything else on earth is the normal human condition, and that, as a human, I am well equipped to deal whatever comes my way. And all of it is a blessing in some way.
Oh, my! There are birds at the feeder! Quietly, fluttering in silence, they came, and left again.
So do emotions.
I have made a playlist on Pandora for writing my current WIP (work in progress). Currently called Ellie’s Story, it is to be a novella and hopefully out in time for Christmas 2024. If you are on Pandora, too, you can hear it here.
Blessings,
Curtiss Ann Matlock 
11 responses to “The Gray Days”
Oh my CurtissAnn, as I read your post I felt like I
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I remember waking up one dark morning around 5am and peeking out the window. It was covered in white ashes. I was sure a nuclear bomb had gone off and this was the end of the world. It turned out to be snow. Phew.
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Irene– the imagination is a wonderful thing. Thanks for sharing, letting me know my flights of fancy are not alone, and giving me a smile. XXOO
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I read your ‘Gray day’ with a smile. As far as handling whatever comes our way…there are times……..we just lost one of our ‘sister’ Maine Coon cats to Cancer today. I cried like a baby. This, too, shall pass……..but man…..the older I get the harder it seems to loose those fur babies.
Hope your gray day turns bright soon………..
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Nancy– my heart goes out to you. Yes, the older I get the harder losing my fur babies gets. Maybe not only age, as my son was concerned lately for his old cat. I could hear the trepidation in tough son’s voice, and the joy when he told me, “Looks like he’s gonna be okay!” Animals are, imho, great angels of God for we humans. Dear one, I pray big hugs for you. XxOO CurtissAnn
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“Why do we have to have tax accounting?” – love this question!
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Truly! It’s all James Madison’s fault. He had to work and lobby hard for taxation. He wanted to fund the government of the new country. First big mistake. 🙂
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This message spoke to me immediately. Since my Nov birthday officially granted me an age label of 76, I have been dwelling on too many gray thoughts… inevitable death, how to find true fulfillment in years remaining while I have control of my senses and still capable of driving without jeopardizing others. And someone stop me from reading obituaries in our small town weekly paper. Those listed are mostly younger than me! Thanks for sharing gray days feelings that I share with you.
Sent from Yahoo Mail on Android
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Dear friend, I am right there with you, being in my 73rd year. I don’t worry about death, which can happen at any age, and anyway, I’m read to go to heaven, however, the question of how to find true fulfillment in my remaining years is much on my mind. This time of my life is quite puzzling. I remind myself that I’ve never been this age before. Hugs, CurtissAnn
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Just like folding that fitted sheet (or not!) I think that part of the secret of managing time amidst all the responsibilities and “have to’s” is deciding what REALLY is a half to and what can wait for another day (or never!)
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So right, Mandi–I am responsible for my decisions of how to spend my time. My struggle is in gluttony. I want to do all! ha, ha.
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