Curling Inward

Some days praise is easy, obvious, clear, a sense of abundance that spills forth, overflowing. Then there are the days when all I want is to curl into myself. The hours are a blur, each dissolving into the next. I feel fragile as I shrivel and become smaller and smaller. I don’t want to talk to anyone, I crave silence and time alone. I don’t think it is about self-pity, grieving, sadness or depression, though I might have assumed that these were reasonable conclusions at other points in my life, nor do I deny a flavor of these mind states swirled into the mix of who I am in the moment. Over the years I have found that sometimes I need to withdrawal; by embracing solitude space opens up for “something else” to be revealed, something I can’t visualize now, something I just need to wait for. Like tzim-tzum, the Holy Blessed One contracted to make space for our world to exist, there are times in our lives as human beings that we must do the same. Today is that kind of day for me. I think perhaps honoring this is form of praise all its own, for it is a matter of emunah, faith.