Pulled Inward: Shake the Dust

I'm thinking about random things this morning.

About yes and no.

About plans for the day.

About likes and dislikes.

About the multiples things left on my list to do.

Thoughts that are really probably not very worthy of sharing.

I feel pulled into myself. One of those days where I know I should be anticipating life, finding joy, but it's like I'm watching it from the outside, it's not quite penetrating.

I wonder sometimes if that's my self-protection mode.

The thing I slip into when I'm hurting and uncertain and in the midst of transition and fighting to be okay.

Fighting to quiet the voices and the panic.

Fighting to find footing again, or even just a safe place to sit for a moment.

So I pull into myself and things feel dulled.

It's not a feeling I like.

But maybe it's all I can manage right now.

I know and produce the appropriate responses.

But they're surface things at the moment.  The smiles and laughter don't penetrate much past my face.

And so I wait.

And try to trust that I'll emerge again.

I've always emerged again, why should this time be any different?

And this line, from a video I saw a few weeks ago, and then again yesterday at Susan's blog, plays in my head.

Shake the Dust.

And somehow there is hope in that.