I was out of town for a couple of days, spending time with friends. I am grateful for the good reconnection, but I also loved the alone time of the drive itself. And the sights: cranes, eagles, juvenile hawks, turkeys, an Amish horse and buggy on an overpass, sparkling open water thrilled to be freed from ice, and the yellow, as if spray-painted, of willow trees announcing spring. The stage is cleared and ready for the next seasonal act.
Yes, it was all good.
As I started my return trip, I plotted what I would do when I got home. I knew the week would be a busy one and by getting home early afternoon, I could get a head start on the week's list. I could write a blog post or two or print out the chapter I am currently revising for my in-progress book. I could answer emails, too. Of course, laundry or maybe grocery shop. Or in my optimism: DO IT ALL!
Instead, my husband and I sat and shared our days. He, too, had been on a road trip, although not an overnight one, and described his experience of spring's breaking news, including glimpses of at least 50 eagles!
After our good conversation I assumed I would move into "now I am home, get busy" gear, but I didn't. I did unpack my one small bag, but after looking at the mail and glancing at my calendar for the week, I stood still and took a long deep breath.
What is it I most want to do right now?
What am I most able to do right now?
How am I meant to be in the rest of the day?
I realized, as good as the days away had been, I was weary. I never sleep as well away as I do at home. Plus, daylight savings time kicked in, robbing us of an hour. I knew I didn't quite have the energy to write or work on creative projects. The laundry could wait. In fact, everything I planned to do would not suffer by delaying till Monday morning.
Instead of desk time, I stretched out in the snuggery and read the Sunday New York Times. What a luxury, for it seems, lately, I rarely read more than the book review. Then instead of going grocery shopping, we went out for an early supper at a favorite neighborhood spot, giving us more catch-up time. And then in the evening, with no Downton Abbey to watch, I returned to the snuggery to start reading a new novel, The Dust That Falls From Dreams by Louis de Bernieres. Finally, I went to bed early.
Not only did I awake Monday morning refreshed, but I felt ready, even eager, to write and to move through the week's list. A side benefit is that the gifts of the previous days lingered. By not brushing them aside, as I rushed to move forward, I integrate them into the gifts of the present days. The day flowed effortlessly.
Sometimes it is good to pause before moving to the next thing on the list.
What is it you most want to do right now? What are you most able to do right now? How are you meant to be in the rest of the day?
I would love to know.