Overcome by the sky

Two very strange things happened yesterday morning:

1. The sky made me cry
2. I went to work wearing odd earrings

On my way to the station this pink cloud scene appeared before me as I rounded a corner where high-rise buildings part enough for city sky to be more than just a distant sliver. So beautiful. So unexpected. It lasted only a minute or two after this and then the intensity faded. By the time I reached the station entrance (that white roof in the foreground) it was all but gone.

I'm often out very early but we don't often enjoy a beautiful sunrise around here. It's always a treat and I count it as one of the plusses of those pre-dawn starts when I'm surprised in this lovely way. What took me even more by surprise than the sky though, was that it made me cry. Without any warning I had tears pouring down my face. The sort of tears that just well and overflow without control from somewhere deep and invisible, triggered by something random and unexpected - like a song, a voice on the 'phone, a phrase in a book, an image on a poster, the sight of the sky... The same sort of thing that on another day would not have that effect, might even pass unnoticed. Do you know what I mean? I don't cry that easily but there are things that occasionally catch at my heart, unearth a soul-sadness and make me overflow. Sometimes hormonally charged, but not always. Not yesterday. Something else was going on. And it took me most of the three hour journey north to properly regain my composure. Silly Goose, as my Nana would have said.

I'm struggling a bit at the moment. Struggling to hang on to all the strings on all the balloons I've agreed to hold - personal and professional. Not the biggest collection I've ever managed and at another time, not a problem. I like the colour and diversity of a varied bunch. I'd even go so far as to say I need it. I seek out projects that give me this variety but, at the moment... too many. And not a good mix. I feel too light, ungrounded. Like I might lift off and be towed behind them into the upper atmosphere, where they'll burst and I'll plummet back to earth, landing painfully. Or, more and more it feels as if I'll just let go and watch them all float away into the distance. Already I've seen one or two slip free and disappear into the ether.

I was handed another balloon at work last week - it's an interesting project, which just needs a bit of additional attention, and it's a compliment that I have been asked to deal with it. And I will deal with it. It deserves the attention. In normal circumstances I might not even notice its addition to the bunch. But right now, to find the energy for it, it probably means adding another personal project to an ever-growing, sad and neglected little pile. I just don't have the wherewithal to manage it all. Work-Life balance? Err, no. I'm feeling a touch overworked, overwrought, overwhelmed...

And that's just the day to day stuff.

It's okay. I've been here before and I will get through it. I recognise the pattern in myself. But on this morning, that sky was a call to arms for me. Random uncontrollable crying in pubic places is a clear signal that something requires attention. And it's not the first time it's happened recently. I need to rearrange the bunch, maybe hand off a few strings, or invest in heavier shoes.

It doesn't help that I'm sleep deprived a lot of the time these days. It's becoming hard to remember a time when I didn't see in 3am with my eyes open. Despite being awake more hours than required, I seem to be achieving less and less. My brain is fuzzy and wild, and my emotions ricochet around in the space my vacated mind has created, adding an over- or under- reaction to every experience. I'm second-guessing myself or failing to act, even where I can quite clearly see what needs doing. I don't have the energy. Some days all I can manage is to hang on grimly to those balloon strings.... Sometimes not even sure anymore why the hanging on is so important but certain that it is. Letting go of it all, liberating as it might appear to be, is not really an option.

Anyway, yesterday... I went through my day - attended meetings, sat in on a workshop, went for lunch with some colleagues, caught the train home again. Fortunately no sunset to speak of, so no more tears. But as I prepared for bed, removing remaining make-up from tired eyes and letting down my hair, I noticed that I was wearing odd earrings... had been all day - one turquoise, one black. Obviously unmatched. Not a deliberate style statement. Not a very big deal in the overall scheme. But very, very un-me. Another sign that all is not functioning as it should be.

And as I stood there in front of the mirror, I had a very clear mental image of one of my little balloons (the one labeled attention-to-detail-and-ability-to-concentrate-even-long-enough-to-change-both-earrings) breaking gently free of the bunch and floating away into a pink sky...