Honest, I go to great lengths to avoid it, tortuously scheduling ahead to spread the impact of Spring's busyness, doggedly inserting recovery days that disappear into rationalizations on the ground, and still May comes for me like Wellington at Waterloo.
Yardwork, Birthdays, Mother's Day, Anniversary: tinker, tailor, soldier, damn! Home renovation that slipped over the April line (imagine that!), unexpected visitors (who we love), rain rain rain and no chance to garden (front yard has yet to be mowed), and lovely grandchildren for a very long weekend. I rode the current like a fast merry-go-round, blurred and squealing, enjoying the ride. And I forgot everything else.
One of the most important lessons I have learned is that as I get older, I need to pace myself. I do try, really, but sometimes it is impossible not to be swept up into the fray. Especially for me, since I always did love it, the intensity required, the focus demanded, the rush in fact. BIG rush. Those were the days.
Now, in my late 60s, I am impressed with myself for getting through the last month without dissolving into a puddle, and impressed with Silver Fox for keeping up. It is satisfying to know that when called upon, we can still respond. But at what expense?
Instead of joyously riding that merry-go-round to a standstill, this year I just fell off. It is taking days to pick myself up off the ground, much less to assess the damage - scraps of good intentions laying all over the place, a snowstorm of things to have done. When was my last yoga workout? OMG it has been a week since I looked at the business email! Oops, three checks in my wallet dated from mid-April to deposit. Why did I want to be up so early today? What is this list?
I am gathering up those scraps one by one and will pack them all back to my quiet desk where, when I can sit and look at them, I might be able to make sense of where I was before all the the fracas. Frankly, I don't remember. The term "punch-drunk" comes to mind:)
Heh heh heh . . .
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