Meh", as spoken by my daughter when there is no real bank of terminology that quite fits the place of mind and heart that is blase', gray, no motivation, stuck, don't care, too road weary to make an effort.  I can see her face, hear her voice and see her body language as she says it.  I know of what she speaks.
That three letter word sums up a lot in her response to my questions.  It categories the uncategorizable - the unfile-able emotions and state of being. Our arrival there can be the result of all sorts of circumstances; an overload of too much frenetic activity and life events, a flux in hormones (yeah even men!), the result of over thinking our situation and/or ourselves, focusing on what we don't like to the excess of not noticing what is good around us, viewing change as only negative (if we don't want it) and positive (if we like it and want it).  We visit its themepark paying the admission because we just don't have the passion, the steam, the where-with-all at the moment not to.   
When I was a teenager, at the peak of my sun worshipping years, I went to Florida on spring break.  I proceeded to not wear sunscreen on the beach during the first week of April.  My northern Indiana earth-farther-away-from-the-sun skin didn't stand a chance.  Combined with youth stupidity, I got fried.  It was far more than just a "sun burn"  - skin hot to the touch and bright pink.  It was sun poisoning.  I wanted nothing more than to lay on a cool wet sheet slathered in some new product not yet invented - aloe vera gel that never dries up!  I wanted to be left alone in my extreme pain and misery because I didn't have the energy to exert to be able to exit that place of pain.  I had to wait it out.  Wait for it to lessen.  I had to go through the process of pain, pins and needles, itching yet flashes of match tips striking your skin hell.  I had totally ravaged and damaged my skin.  There was no way out but the passage of time.
Patience is just not my greatest virtue.  It is, in all honesty, probably not even one of my virtues.  I don't do well at waiting, running laps, circling the runway, treading water, waiting for a sunnier day.  That's probably why my own "meh" dwelling at times drives me nuts.  I want to fast forward it, shake it loose, move that bus, will it away, logic it back to its unsighted corner.  Despite my thoughts to action, it lingers.  Maybe for a reason sometimes.  Maybe because God is wanting me to stop and rest.  Let the "skin" heal.
I am not a believer in parking your bus on negatives, on gray, on lacks, on I wishes, on regrets, the things you presently don't like or the if onlys.  That is not to stay that I have not had my mail forwarded a time or two there. It's just not healthy or a productive forward moving way to think and be.  Hamster wheel thinking never is.  It is only productive to the point of accepting the past as a place in our life, understanding with peace how it brought us where we are today, and fully knowing where we are presently, even if not ideal, is a hidden minefield of good yet uncovered.  Hopefully the result of those negatives make us uncomfortable enough with "meh" living that it moves us to the future, away from it. 
I speak to me if not you.  In three years of living I have packed a hell of a lot in.  I think my body is just now colliding with my mind.  They need to be back in sync.  Do you have a cool white sheet, a masseuse named Gerta, and the whirl of a ceiling fan methodically spinning?  Instead of aloe vera gel I now need Bengay.  Then I need to MOVE THAT BUS!



I am doing a lot of lasts as of late.  Savoring the things that make my heart soar.  They all involve the big wide open outdoors.  If I could store them up, I would.  I feel as if I am saying goodbye to an old friend.  My Aunt Dee knows just what I speak of.

We walked our favorite hill - clear to the top for the view of what I have named, Nancy's Mountains.  There is almost never a time that I don't suck for every drop of oxygen from 5300 feet above sea level standing still, let alone another 1200 feet climb.  The workout is most definitely worth the view.  It sings clear through to my soul.

There is a feel, a smell to the air at that altitude, a wind that is hard to describe.  It's different than ground wind.  And, once you feel it, smell it, you want more.  I want more.  I am not ready to let loose of it.  Not today.  Probably not ever.

I've come to know things a bit more clearly in my middle years.  There are specific likes, loves, passions, hates, stuff I have come to care the hell less about, and things that I am not willing to do without in this stretch of my life. 

The thought of leaving such immediate beauty, the availability of being in nature constantly and the bigness of the earth and sky where I live makes my heart a bit sad.  My aunt says that it just gets in your heart.  She is so right.  Though I leave, it will not leave me.  It will continue to call my name.

I ran my miles around the open field next to us - the one that looks over Granite Mountain.  The one where I can see Mingus Mountain and my self named monikered  Nipple Mountain as well.   It's where I see antelope, cows grazing, and the occasional coyote running.  There is absolutely nothing like it for an avid outdoorswoman such as I.  Nothing.

Life is full of curves, circles, and changes.  This is yet another one.  Since I know how God wired me, and He knows how he wired me, I have to trust that to leave this place of the big outdoors will not be more than I can stand.  That what lies in front will bring to me something to soothe my loss or better yet, something that makes my big sky and mountains pale in comparison.

This beauty and great outdoors has been both the fulfillment of my love language and medicine for my soul.  Though I leave you, you do not leave my heart.  Deep down it's just where I feel most like me.