Sunday Morning

There are dark mornings to be had in life. At times you wake up with a sense of bereftness that you can't quite explain. Why is it that one night you can go to sleep feeling pretty good and the next day wake up with a weight on your mind or a sense of lack or just a feeling of meaninglessness? Can it be as simple as a change in the weather? Or is it something more, like a subconcious realization achieved during sleep that is still wending its way to the surface? Does a change need to be made? If so, do you even have any idea what it may be?

This is one of those mornings in my life that so often used to come accompanied by rain on a Sunday morning in my childhood, when I would wake up in the home of a friend or cousin with whom I'd stayed the night and look out the window to see the gray skies and damp grass blown by a breeze that carried a sense of the depths of the forests that have been forsaken in modern times. On mornings like this there is a need for something unidentifiable, which leaves you searching in vain for answers, without even knowing if there are really questions or if the whole thing is just a temporary imbalance related to a lack of sleep or a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips way too late at night.

How much of a role does the physical play in moods and emotions? Clearly, quite a bit, but can this begin to compete with the power of the mind's unfulfilled desires and memories of better things that have long since passed? What does the human brain crave, or at least, what is being sought by that unique part of my own brain that is different from those of the rest of humanity, the part of the brain made of my own experiences and learning, the part that knows what is best for it but can't seem to communicate this information to the mind at large?

Perhaps as the day passes some piece of hidden knowledge will come to me and make more sense of the whole thing. More likely, I will go out and find some activity and the thought will slowly fade away as it is overtaken by the mental processes required for moving from point A to point B. Undoubtedly, when I go to sleep again tonight, it will be with a much more serene, postive and hopeful state of mind than that with which I awoke but...the questions will still be there, hunkered down, waiting for the low tide of Sunday morning to arrive so that they can once again swim to the surface and cast shadows of doubt upon the still waters of wakening thought.