Turn on the light.

Now, more than ever, we have to take note of the happy moments. We have to submerge ourselves in them and take a long, decadent swim, until we surface somewhere remote, unfamiliar and so wonderfully peaceful. And then we'll hopefully turn and squint at the dark horizon we came from, and not remember what it was made of. 

Photo by Tim Dunk.

These happy moments don't have to be grand and sparkling, with pitch perfect music playing in the background and a warm, soft glow around the edges. They can be the smallest, quietest things. Like your Pilea Peperomioides sprouting a teeny baby in its soil. Or biting into the seeded sourdough you treated yourself to from the bakery, on your way home from work. Finishing a really lovely book before going to sleep. Finding the perfect Christmas gift for a loved one, when you'd been worried about finding anything they'd like. 

You can even find happy moments within the sad ones. Like, it's sad that my workplace has to close due to restrictions (again) and is only open for orders. But it's great that they don't have to close completely! It's also strange to be back on furlough for two weeks, but then it's also the dream! A Christmas break! 
I sure will miss the chaotic Christmas shifts mind, they get me buzzed and warm my heart 

I get to spend Christmas Day with my family, so it will feel nearly normal. Unfortunately, in order for that to happen, I had to make them my support bubble and this means my partner isn't in my bubble any more. But that's fine, because he isn't a big fan of Christmas anyway. it's pretty shitty that I can't be with him on the day, though 

Photo by Tim Dunk.

How about YOU? Are you finding the light in the darkness? Sometimes you have to consciously turn it on. And sometimes it takes a while; the bulb flickers halfheartedly, lacking the juice it needs to brighten a room. But you must persist. Press the switch harder, wait out the flickering, and call for help if you need it. 


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