Day One Hundred and Ninety Seven - Deep Ache

I have no idea what it is today, but every single part of me is exhausted and has been since the moment my alarm went off at 5am. I got more than enough sleep, I was asleep by 8:30pm, and yet when I woke I was more tired than when I had gone to bed. Each step was dragging today. You wouldn't have known it, I kept a good pace, but it was harder than usual. When I got home, all I could think about was sitting down. My legs ached, each muscle in them protested. My back joined in their whining. Everything ached. My head pounded. My eyes squinted against the sun as soon as I left the building. I got home and sat on my ass for hours. I stretched. I ate. I drank tea. And still the deep ache persists.

I'm going to stretch more. And I would have collapsed in bed already if it weren't for the fact that instead of morning, I work tomorrow evening and would like to be able to stay awake on the drive home. But bed will come. And I don't think the deep ache is anything that a deep sleep, some deep stretches, and a deep cup of coffee in the morning can't fix.

But what cures the deep ache of the heart? The kind that just comes on you, not seeming to have a real source, and throbs away the day, leaving you spent. What makes that better? How do you stretch it, ice it, or cool it? How do you massage that pain away? Where does it come from? And who commands it? A sorrow that creeps into your bones. A grief that wastes your eyes. It saps your strength. Sometimes, it leaves with the morning. Othertimes, it can haunt you for days, weeks, months.

I pray this ache will leave me with the dawn. I pray it will turn into a smile or a lesson. I pray it doesn't linger. I need my strength. Perhaps the deep ache of the heart is similar to the deep ache of the muscles. It isn't the sharp pain that tells you something is wrong, but the deep ache that tells you it's a process. Muscles don't build themselves up overnight. No runner ever started at a marathon, no lifter started at 450lbs. You get there, gradually. Perhaps, the deep ache of the heart, is the best kind. Perhaps it is the heart's way of telling you that despite the fact that everything seems the same, you are changing.