My days lately have been clouded by gray. My common instinct is to resist. Everything requires more effort than I remember. The gray has woven itself into my typical feeling of being connected. Everything seems to have wrapped itself in a soft and obscuring cloud. Shapes are less vivid. Everything is remote.
More than anything, I am missing my feeling of being connected to other people, my companions. So many gestures to connect hover in the gray mist without encouraging response. The feeling of separateness grows around me, insulating me in gray.
What I am able to succeed in doing is to turn my focus more inside myself and become more aware of what I am experiencing. I observe the grayness. I am convinced that what at times feels like a gray dead end is not what it appears to be. There is a reality lurking beyond, and it will unfold.
At the moment, however, I am not sure about how to penetrate my gray ambience. I know there is no dead end, only a time when the path seems not clear, the footing less secure.
I walk slowly in grayness, patiently, expectantly.