It's a slow life for me...
I am a snail of a lady...often fighting off lethargy and physical apathy.I am an owl of a lady...often in the shadows, quietly observant, aloof and wise.
I am a willow...a rooted beauty swaying in the breeze.
I live life slowly.
I know this about myself. I have only just accepted my pace without the shame of this American life. I have bitten back when the bug of productivity tries to prostitute my worth. But this last summer, oh my...it has been a busy one. Truly, one of the best summers was never had, but it has been SO packed with lots of social gatherings with lots of people.
I don't do groups very well.
Correction: I don't enjoy groups very well.
The bubbling cauldron of everyone's issues mucking and mixing together burns my soul to the core.
That being said, I can do groups if I've managed to have approximately 1.5 tons of solitude. I am a solitude whore; an alone-time glutton. Though I have been able to fill my solitude tank to the brim, I noticed that since early July it has been rapidly depleting. It totally, fully caught up with me.
So this last week and weekend, I decided no groups. It was a good decision and by no means an antisocial one. I was able to see almost all of my friends on a one on one intimate basis. And this weekend? The first weekend with no big event. Oh so nice.
We went to Mom and Dad's house both days this weekend and stopped at yard sales, picked berries off the wild branches, took naps on a bright yellow blanket, ate too much pasta even WITH the smell of blackberry cobbler cooking, clipped dahlias, cuddled with Abbey, squeezed fresh limes, smelled tomato plants, and just rested, rested, rested.
And consequently, today...Monday, it feels grand and hopeful.
Here's to your Monday, your self-worth, and your weekends of nothing,
We went to Mom and Dad's house both days this weekend and stopped at yard sales, picked berries off the wild branches, took naps on a bright yellow blanket, ate too much pasta even WITH the smell of blackberry cobbler cooking, clipped dahlias, cuddled with Abbey, squeezed fresh limes, smelled tomato plants, and just rested, rested, rested.
And consequently, today...Monday, it feels grand and hopeful.
Here's to your Monday, your self-worth, and your weekends of nothing,
4 comments:
Yours is a kindred spirit to my soul. I understand it ALL. Seems the older I get, the more solitude I need. Feels a bit wrong at times, but the reality is--nothing could be more right. Replenish and refuel. That's when we're at our best.! :)
I like/love solitude too. Most people don't believe me or understand me. I did a LOT of resting over the weekend. I feel a bit "normal" today :-)
I am the three-toed sloth, hoping my best defense is a slow moving life where the predator does not notice me.
It's funny how quickly we change...I was the biggest social butterfly before I started working from home & now if I don't get my solitude I start feeling very anxious. Your poetic voice is a pleasure to read!
Post a Comment