Why does a four-day work week feel like an eternity this time? I thought it must be Friday at least a dozen times yesterday, when it was still only the third work day after Labor Day Weekend. Tuesday and Wednesday were like Christmas with the UPS man charging up the driveway each day to deliver boxes of books. They smell so good!
I even took a few hours to kayak with friends yesterday, so it’s not to say this week has dragged by with menial tasks. But my mind has been fuzzy and frantic-feeling. I looked back in my journals to see if there was a pattern for the first week in September. Oddly, my book doesn’t have much about this week in the years from 1978 to 1981. I remember now, this was the time of year I always traveled home from wherever we were living. For the most part, I was so ‘out of my environment’ that I seldom wrote those trips down. In 1982 things were falling apart fast in my life. Roger, my first husband, I took off for Thailand and Nepal to try to rebuild and relax. The journal entries are full of blind hope and frustration, like my current state. But other than September being a month of travel in the past, there was no real clue about why I was feeling this way now.
Then I came upon this entry from 2009, that reminded me that life is full of subtle cycles and if I just think back, even four short years ago, I will see that there is joy in the changes. Hanni was entering her first year of college and Lex was settling into life in Los Angeles. I was working at a job that had not yet become intolerable.
I got a lot done today and I feel really good about this time of year and where I am at in life.
Made a list and knocked everything off it today. Also got to talk with my wonderful ladies. They are so different and so amazing. Lex is moving through the world of LA and becoming a person beyond what I ever would have imagined. Her call at 5am her time on Sunday mornings has become a welcome routine. She is getting off an all night shift and I am just making my first cup of coffee. We share simple stuff but I can see her and imagine life where she is. I feel warm and human after we hang up.
Hanni’s call was so perfectly Hannita. She has a horse/new project/new purpose/new adventure. Buddy is an old Quarter horse who’s real name and history will forever remain a mystery. He fell into her life and when she got on without a bridle or saddle and pointed him toward a herd of cows that needed to be moved, he took over and filled a hole in her heart she hadn’t known existed. Being on the back of a horse will be her salvation in life.
And so that is the long and short of it. Life balances itself out. Weeks can be long or short, it is up to me and my perception of time.
Therapeutic Misadventures 