Another day of frequent wind gusts, some with a blazing sun, others cool under the shade of grey tinged clouds. The variations provide a quiet thrill for those not otherwise occupied.
And so it would seem that a measure of unpredictability is a wholly natural state. Which would make it logical to expect exceptions to what is deemed the usual.
I think of my mother and her lifetime spent under a yoke of shifting terminologies. The ongoing attempts to diagnose her mental state, determined to fault the shifts in mind and mood.
The labels perhaps were insufficient to the task of reordering that which simply does not abide by regimented orders and states.
Her laugh could be as loud as her yell. My optimism can be as lofty as the depths of darkest self-loathing.
It may be that we haven’t the emotional capacity to directly embody balance. Perhaps that is why we are so well suited to inquire and admire and aspire.