We all have them, bad days I mean. Those days, when just nothing seems to go right for you, and you wished you had just stayed in bed. We all have days like that. I have had those days as part of my life for as long as I can remember.
There were times when they got so bad I just did not want to be here at all. My parents used to get very angry with me when they said I was having one of my sulking moments. It must have been difficult for them, I am aware of that now. I remember my mother speaking to the minister that I had become very friendly with, and who turned my life on its head. My mother was explaining to him that I could be a real difficult person to live with, did he understand that. I do not remember what he said to her that day, but I do remember another day and another place.
In Scotland when a person becomes an ordained minister, and takes up post in his or her first parish, there is an event at which friends speak of the person. These friends tell funny stories and tell the new congregation a bit about their new ministers past. On the occasion this happened for me, my friend stood up and spoke of my dark days. He told the congregation that in me they had an all or nothing kind of person. That I would give all of myself heart and all, but that in the midst of that there would be times when I would be best just left alone.
He went on that night to say that those were my burnt out days. On those days do not listen when I complain or get grumpy. He said rejoice for what is round the next corner. What he meant was that those down days were the first days of the next cycle of creativity.
Why am I telling you this today, simple, I am on a low day. Normally I would not write a blog today, normally I would do nothing today, but here I am and I am remembering my old friend, now dead. I am remembering what he must have told my parents and what he told me. The black days are worth it, because these are the days that make you what you are.
I was listening to a track from the Rolling Stones. In it the mother rushes to the cupboard for her, “mothers little helper.” How often that is the answer now when we have down days.
I though I would share that thought with you on one of my black days. I am going to cope with this day, it will not be one of my best, but it will be the first day in the next cycle of whatever.
Things can only get better after all.
This all reminds me of the funny tale of the old lady. He husband had died. She went to the local paper to put in the death notice. She asked what it would cost. She was told it would be £1 per word. She said to the girl behind the counter, “Ok so it is a pound a word. Just write, Robert Dead.” The girl looked at her and said, “I forgot to tell you the minimum number of words is five. “Ah,” she said, “in that case write, Robert Dead, Ford For Sale.”
Even at the lowest moment we need to begin to prepare for the good days ahead.
This Blog is linked to my other. Handel - WaterMusic.