Laying in wait. Waiting for my body to catch up with my spirit. It’s frustrating to feel helpless to your body’s need to rest and heal. Your brain ticks down the hours and days and feels like it’s time to be able to do whatever it feels the urge to do. A voice inside pushes and nudges and whispers and I cave and crawl out.
A little at a time is fine, it’s good to press just a little. Movement has always been my friend, keeping my mind occupied and pain pushed back into a box in the corner. I promise myself I will just do one thing and then lay low.
But it has only been three days since the injections, and I have never been good at stopping. I have never been balanced or metered in my approach to quick/little/easy tasks, frequently stoping only because I collapse in fatigue, or more likely because I have been caught in the act by my family and marched back to bed.
It’s rainy and grey outside of my window. Inside in this soft bed I am struggling to keep my eyes open, surrounded by warm, adoring pups curled close to my body. Their rhythmic and relaxed breathing, their complete and easy surrender to a day of slumber make me smile and I feel my own self surrender too.
Blogger, life enthusiast, queen of chaos. Author and star of #closertocrazy, and Hairbeast Productions. I live in north central Massachusetts on a tiny misshapen, entirely accidental farm. Life is always an adventure!
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