“Your vision will become clear
only when you can look into your own heart.
Who looks outside, dreams;
who looks inside, awakes.”
— Carl Jung
Now that I have regained my mental clarity and am slowly finding my energy, I am ready to leap into this Leap Year and find out what is waiting for me.
I wish us both every opportunity to learn, grow, and commit to loving. The world needs all our commitment to each other and generosity.
In my own way, I am going to jump into the next 10 years — the best is yet to come.
This blog is letting go of how the first month of the new year started and welcoming what is to come.
When things get tough, I tend to apply my Grit and sense of humor. In the middle of being sick, a little helpless, and goofy, I used Chat GBT to help me write a country song I call: “(It ain’t no fun being) Sick and Single.”
If you need a giggle today, here it is. Oh, and feel free to supply your own tune.
SICK AND SINGLE
© 2024 Leslie Yerkes
Verse:
Well, I woke up this morning with a cough and a sneeze.
Reached for the tissue, felt a chill in the breeze.
Single life’s got me feeling kinda blue.
No one to nurse me back to health, it’s true.
But I’ll put on my cowboy boots, grab my guitar.
Sing a tune about love that’s gone too far.
A twang in my voice, a tear in my eye.
Being sick and single, oh my, oh my.
Chorus:
It ain’t no fun being sick and single.
No one to share soup or a TV jingle.
Lying in bed, tissues all around.
Hoping for love, but it won’t be found.
Verse:
I scroll through my phone, but there’s no one to call.
Just the echo of a sneeze through an empty hall.
Wishing for someone to bring me chicken soup.
But there’s only me and my honkin’ coupe.
I’ll laugh through the sniffles, dance in my room.
In the midst of my fever, let the laughter bloom.
Country song playing on the radio.
Being sick and single, putting on a show.
Bridge:
Maybe this fever’s playing tricks on my mind.
Seeing love in the shadows, so hard to find.
But I’ll keep on singing, through the aches and pain,
Hoping love will someday break the chain.
Verse:
So here’s to being single with a tissue in hand.
In my solo dance, I try to understand.
The humor in heartbreak, the joy in pain.
I sing my country song while it pours down rain.
Chorus:
It ain’t no fun being sick and single.
No one to share the soup or a TV jingle.
Lying in bed, tissues all around.
Hoping for love, but it won’t be found.
Verse:
Friends from afar, send their help my way.
Instacart deliveries making my day.
Six dogs at my side, who need a little care.
And it’s hard, I’ll admit, life’s a bit of a dare.
I’m the one lends a hand, not the one who asks.
Cell phone’s my lifeline, wearing multiple masks.
Trying to reach the doc, but it’s a waiting game.
No matter who tells me it’s always the same.
Chorus:
It ain’t no fun being sick and single.
No one to share the load or ease the wrinkle.
Laying in bed, tissues all around.
Hoping for help, in silence, I drown.
Bridge:
A prideful heart, a stubborn mind.
Asking for help, but it’s hard to find.
Life’s like a two-step that sometimes stumbles.
Lean on a friend, Before your courage crumbles.
Verse:
So I’ll swallow my pride, and make that call.
Let friends be the ones who stand up tall.
Six dogs wagging, my lifeline strong.
In this down turn, I’ll find where I belong.
A helper in need, a twist in the tale.
Dial for help, break through the veil.
Cell phone rings, a comforting sound.
On the downside, you know, your strength is found.
Chorus:
It ain’t no fun being sick and single.
But friends are the cure, like a comforting jingle.
Lying in bed, surrounded by care.
Hoping for healing, knowing they’re there.
In closing, I have just had one more awareness moment. In my youth, I did big things in leaps and intense immersion of time. I may not have been the most efficient or wise, but my commitment was always enthusiastic.
In my mid-life now, I do multiple things in incremental steps. Sundays are the perfect day for this kind of puttering — a steady speed with all things advancing in small steps.
Woven into the tasks are pleasurable moments and pauses. It is my version of Scandinavian Hygge.
Yes, there is music playing, candles lit, and fresh flowers in most rooms of my home. Pauses for dog snuggles are a must. A long bath is my day’s reward.
A master list is my road map.
I hope your new year started with good health and positive prospects.
If not, with a little help from our friends, we’ll navigate the challenges. Let’s share our good and difficult times. I benefit from hearing what you are learning and thinking about as well.
Leslie
“Sing me a song of tomorrow,
tomorrow, when sorrows are gone.
Sing me a song of tomorrow.
Tomorrow, I may be home.”
— Dottie Rambo
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