Like some sort of mood chameleon, I tend to take on the outlook of my situation... If said situation sucks, then life sucks, there is no green grass anywhere, and no one cares if the glass is half full or half empty you idiot. If said situation is rainbows and kittens, then pass the champagne in that half-full glass! Green grass for everyone! Hurray!
My father likes to remind me that happiness is a choice. Cognitively, I know this is true. As one of my person heroes, Alice Sommer, proved, one can choose to be happy in the most dire of circumstances. (If you can find joy in a concentration camp, and choose to forgive your captors, then you're a better woman than me.)
Still, all the Sommer in the world (that her name translates to "Summer", the warmest and brightest of the seasons, is not lost on me) can't seem to disentangle me from my Winter brambles once I've wandered into them.
In fact, it often seems the more I fight the tentacular terror, the more ensconced I become... Try as I might to see the light or smell the roses, I end up dark and bleeding from the thorns.
Friends, it seems I've wandered, once again, into a dense patch of brambles. And I could use a sense of Sommer to light my way. If you've any positivity to share, I'd welcome it.
Perhaps with your help I can blend with your mood and adjust to your shade.