It's still okay to cry, isn't it?

Four years ago,  on this day and at this hour,  I was running for my life dodging a three storey masonry facade toppling towards me.

This last year has had a few ups and downs, but generally I've been "coping" by using the Five Ways of Wellbeing: Connect, Give, Take Notice, Keep Learning and Be Active.

These last two weeks have "gone to custard" however.

We've been having the repairs done to our house.  They were only very minor repairs so we didn't need to move out like so many others have had to do.  There's still been a bit a lot of extra stress with having to pack up some loose books and toys, and move furniture out from the walls.  I've also found it harder than I expected to having tradespeople in my personal space. 

I've also got out of routine with several of those wellbeing things.  I couldn't go for my run when I usually do  because I couldn't shower afterwards because there were painters working on the bathroom ceiling.  I couldn't practice my music when I normally would because there was a worker sanding down the doorframe of my bedroom with a radio playing.

On top of this, I've been feeling rather vulnerable from triggered emotions from this stuff last week.

So when the voice of discouragement reminded me off a particular disappointment a couple of days ago, I couldn't fight it off the way I usually try to do.  I just had to let myself curl up and have a good cry over it, even though I knew the emotion was out of proportion to the cause.

It's Lent, but I don't have the strength to observe a fast this year. 

(Has there ever been any actual scientific double-blind type studies done on the anti-depressant effects of dark chocolate? If not, could the placebo effect still be enough to justify postponing my fast for medicinal reasons?)

About this time last year, I started writing a prayer-poem, that grew into this song:

 

Yes, this time and place too, this is also Holy Ground.