and on the 15th day, she rested…
That must make me twice as powerful as God, or maybe just half as sensible.
Whew. what a ride so far. I seem to have been running on one of two speeds since I started: either wound up or utterly crashed. And crashed is not the same thing as resting by any measure. Resting is more like leisurely putting a roof on your hut while the sun is shining. Crashing compares to tearing around throwing tarps on your stuff in a downpour.
Between the stress and the excitement my only downtime has been when I simply couldn’t function any more. And I kept trying to figure out what remedy I needed to get me going again. What food, pill, vitamin, would resolve the pain burning in my muscles and that rag-doll feeling leaving me wobbling through my life. It took me until Monday to realize what I needed was to slow the hell down. And a couple of days to detangle from the things I needed to do so I could actually R E S T.
I’ve still got a million things to do, but none of them are things I have to do Right Now (how’s that for being in the moment? Ta da!). So today I chill, maybe putter around the house (last week I was operating under the premise turning the light out in the kitchen and walking away was kinda like cleaning it). Now I’ll take some time to nurture me, nurture this space I live in. Housecleaning is an act of love. But I’m not going at it in a frenetic gotta get this place fixed kinda way, instead an easygoing tending to whatever I feel I need. A bit of stretching, a bit of napping, tidying up something I’m walking by.
So I think I’m going to go pick a few things up off the floor and set my robot vacuum to work while I flake on the couch. I bet God wishes he had one of those. He may be omnipotent, but somebody’s still got to do the tidying up.