I’ve let go of some of my routine and habits. Seemed like a good idea at the time. I thought I would relax a little and ‘let go’. I’ve let go too much. I’m having trouble getting my discipline back. It’s time to walk my furry baby but I don’t want to do that either. I must. It’s her birthday. She got her birthday chew. I can’t deprive her of her walk. Guilt will get me going – after I finish my tea. Heavy big sigh.
How did I get to this spot? It’s like pulling teeth getting things done. The arthritis in my left hand is not helping. It’s almost 4 months now. Some days it is not bad. Then it’s not good the last 2 days. My ring finger is swollen and bent. I spend moments straightening and massaging it. Otherwise, it would seize up and I would have to snap it open. Ouch! Ah, I better take a tylenol. Time to take Sheba out.
I tanked out after Sheba’s birthday walk yesterday. My discipline has gone to the dogs. Not a good thing. Real life happens. I don’t want it to go on for much longer. It doesn’t feel good, this lethargy. I feel as if I’ve lost all ambition and resolve. I feel as if I’ve lost purpose. I want to say, What is the point? The world is on the brink of destruction. The fires burn on. Violence continues. We are a selfish specie. We only care about the me, I and myself. We only care about money and stuff.
Clearly one thing I need to change is my self talk and my vocabulary. I am thinking and talking myself into a blue streak. I have to keep some blinds open and let natural light in. Maybe I can paint some blue skies to counter the clouds and smoke. Real life sucks sometimes but that’s life. I must be doing some things right. I am not behind with life. My bills are paid up. My car is serviced. Doctor and dental checkups done. I have family and a few friends. I have some junk cluttering my surfaces but nothing that would shock your socks off if you pay me an unexpected visit.
By my own accounts, I must be doing okay. I went to my exercise class this morning. I can still talk and interact with people. Somebody gave me some rhubarb muffins. Another some cucumbers. I harvested 2 more spaghetti squash from the raised garden bed. I already have 5 in the basement. I made lunch. Dishes are not done but soaking. I think I’m just going through a life bump. I’ll be back to ‘normal’ in a bit. No worries.
It is after lunch. Lethargy seeps into every part of me, body and mind. I want to vegetate forever and forever. If I was to allow it, the food, pots and dishes would sit there till mold grows. I wonder how I ever held down a job. The wonder of it was that I was in a high stress, 12-hour-shifts nursing profession for over 30 years. I thought I did well but looking back now, maybe not. I attended to the job but not to my life. My still-full laundry basket of laundered clothes still sits from 4 years ago when I was still working. Clearly, I haven’t missed those items. Maybe, too, I don’t want to dig into that basket of memories. BUT, I will tend to it today.
I have been missing in action here for a few days. I was tending to my body and soul. Sometimes I have to take a rest into the quiet, still my thoughts, silence my words and not let them march onto the page. Silence is golden. Some things I need to keep for myself. Otherwise, I will have nothing of my own. I will be emptied out.
It is hard to resume the conversation though. It is like the after lunch dishes. If left too long, things get stale and crusty. It would require more energy to get going. I had to get up and fetch a cuppa. My eyes were droopy. It would be so easy just to curl up and have a nap. But I’m stuttering on, letting my fingers find the rhythm and the letters. The clouds are gathering, the wind picking up. I hear a train whistle. I better not tarry. There’s Sheba to be walked – hopefully before the rains come.
There are more days than not that I don’t feel like doing anything. Days where I feel I need a shovel to pry me off the couch. I’ve gone through a bout of insomnia. Now I feel like I have sleeping sickness. I’m sleepy as soon as I get out of bed. Life is difficult as M. Scott Peck says in The Road Less Travelled. He wasn’t kidding.
The reason I don’t stay down is it is more exhausting resting than not. So I pushed myself up and out. By now I have trained myself well to get up, dress up and show up even somnolent. I am like a trained seal, performing in life’s circus. Don’t worry if I do sound dark and sardonic. This is my tapping voice. I’m speaking mostly to myself, sorting out feelings and problem solving. I’m feeling the hibernation response – nature’s call to slow down. I should have been a bear.
But I am not. I must rise to the call of being human as best as I can. I am probably not as slow and despondent as I feel. My chili peppers are dehydrating on the deck, the tomatoes are saucing on the stove and the pork roast is in the oven. I will finish my tea, Dyson the floor. Then Sheba and I will head out for our walk and some sunshine. The fresh air will perk us up. Another day.