The sunflower knows not of Monday nor the notorious blues which tend to accompany it. The sunflower isn’t burdened by the weeks or weekends. It knowns only of the seasons and the days which come and go far too quickly. The sunflower stands iron-willed and patient through the night so that every morning it may dance to the silent hum of our distant star. And so it feels appropriate to steal the words of Allen Ginsberg: “When did you forget you were a flower?”
Today is Thursday, the weekend is near, and I’m sure you’re excited. But when Monday rolls back around, remember that it is not the Monday you are told it is. It isn’t your cue to dread the day.
“We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.”
—Will Durant, The Story of Philosophy (1926)
In this case, it’s the cyclical Monday ritual of self-imposed misery which becomes habit. If we are what we repeatedly do, be not surprised if the “Monday blues” bleed into your life. Do not forget you a flower, think only of the seasons and the days, and may you dance every morning.