Somber is the way heaviness presses me to a warm slumber. Almost the exact opposite of motivation. Lack of motivation and desire and progress.

I have always been a private person and yet somehow my insides have always found their way out. We have a tree in our backyard. It’s a tiny purple plum and last year we were certain it was dead.

Motivation feels like I am a racehorse waiting to get out of the gate. Not quite yet the release, grrrrrr the not yet, almost, wait it will be just a second.

Discouragement runs deep. It feels like the cells pull downward into an abyss of nothing is as it should be.

I have spent so many days, hours and energy taking care of other people. Always being on alert to their feelings and preferences and wants and needs and…