four days

Four days of rain is about my limit. Can’t take anymore of this.
I just want to see the sun again. The winters here are killing me as it is.
Three or four weeks of no sunshine in the midst of winter.
Don’t get me wrong, I like having all four seasons and I enjoy the changes from season-to-season. I’d just like to see the sun a little more often. I’ll be complaining about the heat and humidity come August, a little strange since I was born and raised in the tropics.

There are two kinds of monkeys, or so the saying goes.
I think it’s an old Hindu story, perhaps it’s Buddhist. The first kind waits for it’s mama to do everything, expects to be taken care of and to be told what to do. The second one survives by it’s own action, even if that means grabbing onto mama and holding on for dear life as she swings from tree to tree. I’m trying hard to be that second kind of monkey, but I keep reverting to the first. Waiting for someone or something to come along and save me. Waiting to be picked up, carried, and catered to. I know the warning signs of slipping into that mindset, but here I am again, repeating my same old mistakes yet again. I’ve fought off most of my addictions, or so I thought. I felt that I should be given a reprieve or an easier way to go. My crutches are far less insidious than before, but they hold sway over me still. Cigarettes, soda, even Thai food, all fill a void, give me a shot of endorphins and I cling to them.

Imprisoned by my fears and expectations. Longing for freedom, but unsure how/where. The blame is always somewhere else. The reason is always without. I burrow away deeper within, shielding myself from whatever it is that shakes my beliefs or my sense of well being. I don’t realize that I am a willing captive, that I control my own freedom. I have walled myself away from the world to protect this fragile ego, blaming everyone and everything else for my imprisonment. When will I awaken? When will it end?