I’ve been sick since Saturday. Stuck in bed under blankets and forcing fluids. My time has been divided between Parks and Recreation episodes, attack plans for February, and conversations peppered with statements like, “No. Stop right there. No more thinking.”
Hush, little one, sometimes rest really is all you need.
We talk about how to plan an attack before I even think about the sunlight we get back now that solstice has passed. The mile-markers fly by with minimal recognition. I’m always bracing for something.
I want to feel like I’m moving forward, but every year it floors me. I try to tell myself that this year, yes, this year I can plan better. I can stick to the plan easier. I can do this. Every year I wonder what I have to figure out to make it different than the last. Then I wonder if it’s time to start blaming myself. Like I somehow force myself into bottoming out just by assuming I will. Continue reading →
I met a man who spends his summers on an island in the arctic. Has for the last forty years. For thirteen weeks he lives in an eight-by-ten cabin and spends his days putting bands around the ankles of baby seabirds. He said, “I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
He said, “I like spending time by myself. You’re never thinking on a different level than the other people around you. You don’t have to explain anything that’s going on in your head to anyone.” Continue reading →