Just some random musings on the state of my life this evening, journal style, because yes, I’m writing this in the evening even though it’ll show up first thing in the morning – not that that matters, because by the time you read it, it could be morning, it could be evening, it could be on the site or in your inbox or via Instagram and what even is time really anyway?
(Thoughts: I have Thoughts on the nature of time, actually, having been doing rather a lot of reading up on the physics thereof of late. But that’s another even more convoluted post than I suspect this one is about to become.)
It’s 9pm and on the one hand, I could be turning everything off to go to bed. On the other hand, my life revolves around my bed right now – my achievement for the day is that I ate all three meals out of bed, something I haven’t done in about three weeks, so that’s exciting, moving on up in the world right here – and I had a nice lil nap this afternoon while one of the Fabulous Relative Posse took the kids to the (heated) swimming pool (it’s mid-winter here). So I’m tired, but not quite sleepy yet, and in this new (caveat, caveat) world of unpredictable brain energy, I’m enjoying having the flexibility to be spontaneous and take my brain up on her energy when it’s there for the offering.
Caveat, caveat: This is not a new world. Although the whole ‘being sick with aggressive cancer’ is a new-world thing for me, the ‘unpredictable brain energy’ thing is absolutely not new at all. I just previously existed in a world that was almost wholly antagonistic to such a way of working, my charming current-day-job-boss and her marvellous ADHD accommodations notwithstanding.
What’s new is that I no longer have ANY competing priorities to cut across the grain of my body’s needs. Tired? Go sleep. Hungry? Eat, which lately involves summoning one of the Fabulous Relative Posse to deliver my food straight to me, a privilege indeed. Need people? Hoo boy, do plenty of them want to contact me and hang out (love ya). Need quiet? Awesome, kick everyone out of the room and shut the door. Feel like picking away at something? Cool, have some publishing tasks or editing to noodle away at. No brain power? Scroll the feeds (pinterest is usually where I’m mentally healthiest with scrolling). Maybe somewhere in there read a book, and do make sure I move my body as much as I’m physically able, and give her a good ol’ wash once a day from top to toe. Meds between 8 and 830, am and pm.
This is the gentle rhythm and structure of my day, and it IS gentle, a soothing shushing of a welcoming tide, in and out, in and out, ebbing and flowing with the nature rhythms of my energy throughout the day.
And so here I am at bedtime, with a plethora of options for what I could do, all of them relatively pleasant, and none dictated to me by anything outside my own physical and mental needs.
I hope that when the endless stream of visitors finally recedes and I am left on the sandy shores of This New Normal, I can remember how blessed this feeling is, to be a peace with my own rhythm, and not overwhelmed – as new freelancers often are – by the plethora of ways they can now spend their time without account.
That, I think, is the key: the holding to account. And in this time, in this space, in this season, the account I hold is to her: my body. I will be privileged to put her first in every way. xx
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