A Crash and Burn Day

As I went through the process of putting Mom's family's memories together, I would go full tilt for a while ... then crash and burn.

Excitement and motivation ... followed by the intensity of working with what I had ... the ideas would continue to flow ... and crash.

I'd be stopped in my tracks. I thought I may never get back up. But then ... I'd get a letter, have a conversation or hear something motivating. And I'd be back at it again.

It was a cycle that permeated the creation of 'The Book' that told the story of my mom's family. I do tend to do ... until I overdo at times.

The last time I did this, I think that maybe I learned a valuable lesson. I took what I learned and I have applied it to my life since then. It's been a good ride.

One doesn't accomplish as much or climb as many mountains when you are perpetually in a go-with-the-flow kind of mode. It is a very sane mode and I highly recommend it. But ... if you want to reach the top of that mountain, you do have to put out the energy it takes to get there.

I spent 3 days scaling various mountains. Yesterday, necessity forced me to stop.

I had an 8 month old baby here for the day so it changed my expectations for the day. The baby napped (twice) in the room that Kurt has 'lived' in all summer (TV, computer, X-Box and Lego reside in that room ... it is an 11 year old boy's haven). So Kurt spent the day with us. The kids took over the computer (everything I do seems to be attached to needing the computer).

It was an enforced day off for me. My only job was to tend and feed my young crowd of 6. Quiet time was ... quiet. I grabbed a book and sat down.

It didn't take long before the vertical hold button in my eyes was moving the words on the page of the book I was reading. I thought ... How interesting ... as I quite literally saw the words moving as if the vertical hold button on the TV set (which was my eyes) needed to be adjusted. Then, I simply let gravity take over and I closed them.

Ahh.

I lived the pace of a sane person yesterday. I looked at the baby I was tending for the day (his first and only day that he will be spending with me, as I close the 'doors' to my preschool daycare attendees in only 9 more working days) and I didn't panic. I didn't look at the day and think ... This is the first day of forever ... and superimpose impossibly high expectations on me or the baby. He acted his age. And I acted mine. He is a very good baby and I think we would have done okay in the 'forever' process of raising him. But this time ... I don't have to. That was a very good realization.

I lived in the moment.

Then, the day got better. A card that was personally dropped off, full of words that didn't need to be said. You know the words? Words that have been 'spoken' in every capacity, on a regular basis and you know that you are being appreciated for 'you'. I'm blessed to live a life where that is the case in most of my friendships. People all around me speak volumes in actions, body language and words. I feel that they 'get' me and accept me as I am. They encourage, fuel and support me. But still. To receive a card that has the words written down on a physical piece of paper that I can savor for the moment and save for forever ... is truly the best gift a person could ever receive.

And then ... I went dancing.

I looked at the mirror as I readied myself to walk out the door. I saw a weary and bedraggled reflection looking back at me. The color I had chosen to wear drained my features right off my face. So I chose another color. Not great. I put on earrings (I never wear earrings), just to get the focus off of my face. The humidity in the air did weird things to the ultra short hair that I am still battling with, on the top of my head. I tamed that down, but it was not a good look that I wore as I left the house.

When the part of the lesson came, where we were being taught the 'big picture' of all the details that our brain must know so that our feet will eventually get the idea ... I could hear the TV's long bleep (from the days when the TV stations didn't run 24/7, and there was a long beeeeeeep that signaled 'out of service' until the morning) running through my head. I thought Do I really have to learn this ... today??

It was still a good dance lesson. I laughed, had fun, enjoyed the company of the people at the studio. But at the end of it all, I was glad to go home.

I grabbed a bowl of ice cream and the outstanding work that I have facing me, glanced my way. I savored my ice cream and said 'No' to the work. It isn't going anywhere. I thought that I would end the day the way I started it. Peaceful and idle.

Kurt and I sat down and watched TV together. But it wasn't long before my body longed to be comfortable ... and it wasn't long after that, that my eyelids refused to stay open.

At long, long last ... I could blink my eyes shut and keep them shut. The TV station turned off its signal and ended its broadcast day.