Where have the past few weeks gone?
I’m trying to pause, and assess. Take stock. Where did all my time go? What have I been doing? I have to pull out my calendar to even remember.
Oh, that’s right. The first of this month we had a Wild at Heart Boot Camp. Four really incredible days. And utterly exhausting. It takes days to recover. This time almost a week, because the warfare hit hard towards the end, and even more so afterwards. That’s right, now I remember. But three days after the retreat was Stasi and my 25th. A wonderful time, but still there’s the pressure and emotional investment in making it a wonderful time. We went down to Santa Fe for a couple nights. Then a friend’s wedding. Then back to the book, and writing. My son Sam breaks down in his 68 VW we rebuilt, but he’s several states away and I spend a day and a night trying to get him back to college. This past weekend it was take Luke rifle hunting.
No wonder I’m tired.
Sometimes it’s helpful just to pause and ask, “What have I been doing?’ I mean, any one of these events isn’t all that demanding in and of itself, but good grief, the accumulation is practically ridiculous. At least I don’t feel so guilty for not wanting to jump into the pile on my desk today.