A week after the festival and I'm still going in slow motion, craving naps and leaving tasks undone. I have read magazines and watched dvds and sat on the couch and talked with my husband and kids and petted the dog and made a lap for the cat more this week than I have done in a long time. At the office I allowed my work team to do the busy stuff while I said a lot of "thanks" and "okay" and "that's great." I'm mostly okay with this, but I've had a bit of nagging "are you losing it??" kind of worry.
When I was 24 years old, I broke my finger playing "wallyball" - manic volleyball in a racquetball court. I healed in a fortnight and was back at it. Twenty years later, I'm not so quick to regenerate. Elbow tendonitus took almost a year to heal and there's something going on with my ankle.... The point is, I think it's the same with my psyche. I could ask myself to do amazing things when I was younger, completely wipe myself out, then be ready for action Monday morning at 7am. I guess I have to learn to be patient with myself, and also to tune in better to what's really happening - all the layers.
It's not only that for the week of the festival I got up early, stayed up late and worked hard. I must acknowledge also that I met a lot of people, absorbed a lot of personal stories, immersed myself in dozens of performances, deepened bonds of trust with my Poetry House friends, stretched boundaries with my family and challenged my own idea of my self and what I'm meant to do. These things shake the soul in ways that are both creative and destructive. The pieces are all still settling, and an odd sort of healing is happening - like when I lift weights, tear muscle a bit, and build new, or when my son's braces move the roots of his teeth to new alignment. In the end it's for the better, but during the process there needs to be time for rest and adjustment.
So maybe it's not just that I'm older. Maybe there's more going on than when I was younger and life was simpler. Or maybe I'm just paying better attention and feeling it more. Whatever the case, I'm okay with it and curious to find out what happens next.
question: when do we stop growing up?
mompoet - growing I think