I've had this terrible illness this week, the most unfortunate side effect of which is a sore mouth and throat and the inability to taste anything other than sawdust. It's incredible how discouraging it is, how much it upsets one's worldview suddenly to lose a sense like that--how do I orient myself now? How do I move through the day with only one antenna?
And, of course, in the midst of illness or injury--temporary or life-changing--you wonder, will it always be like this? Will it always be so painful? So disorienting? So broken? And, also of course, the only answer you can come up within the moment is a yes, always.
That 'yes, always' colors everything. Well, not so much colors as grabs the black grease pencil and scribbles peevishly over all your nicely drawn figures, all carefully colored-in lines and neatly stacked. Gathering those up is exhausting until you're on the other side of the mess, so you know what? Just leave them. Just leave them and rest. Rest is simple; rest passes the time. Rest allows you to forget the complicated/uncomplicated, easing you through until you can pull that ease into waking life, trash the ruined pages, and begin again cleanly, simply. Oriented.