I stepped outside my house and into the peace of my garden. Yes it has areas where the grass has grown waist high. No there are not nearly as many blooming plants as I would like, but it still breathes peace into me. This is my place and it has nothing to do with packages or emails.
Howard and I were short with each other yesterday. In hindsight I see that he was anxious about this trip. His last writer’s retreat was difficult for many reasons, one of which being that he was not prepared. It makes sense that his back brain would drive him toward extra preparedness. I, on the other hand, was still trying to finish up the last of the coin shipping and also trying to gather all the threads of things that need to be done before my departure next week. We frustrated each other without meaning to do so. Then at the end of the day we talked it through a little, carefully though. The trick is to let each other know the shape of the anger without creating more. Tonight none of it feels quite so urgent and I wonder why I got upset.
I scroll back through my blog entries and they are full of shipping updates for the past weeks. This is an accurate representation of how my life has been. I hope to be able to reclaim it, to have time for slow thoughts, to really see my kids. They’re around me all the time. I answer queries and help them solve problems. Yet when I get absorbed into weeks of work urgency I don’t really see them when I look at them. My brain is holding on to the work thoughts instead of focusing on the kids. Tomorrow is Saturday and I’ve closed down work for the week. I’ll pick it up again on Monday in a mad rush to complete things before I leave, but Saturday belongs to my kids and my house. Sunday I hope to rest. Resting would be lovely.
Of course I have to remember how to do it. I’ve been doing one thing after another for so long I hardly know how to stop. Perhaps I’ll figure it out this weekend.