Monday, March 6, 2017
i want to know if you can see the stars tonight
I write today from the peaceful and inconvenient bonds of convalescence. Having quite abandoned decent self-care in the form of healthy sleeping and eating habits over the weekend, I have come down with a thorough cold and flu that's been making the rounds.
I consider it to be my own fault, with no bitterness. I don't know whether I shall ever become that one kind of responsible figure I know myself capable of being: who wears flannel about her throat during all inclement weather, and turns down a dance for a nap that would do her health good.
For now I am content that I know how to be "good" and employ this knowledge in good earnest on days like these. Since I came down with the wretched thing yesterday, I have dutifully cancelled engagements, taken naps and vitamins; made soup and porridge, and drunk honey-lemon water in quantity.
I have occupied my time, when not sleeping, with Dorothy Sayers' magnificent volume Busman's Honeymoon, which I needn't tell you is delightful in every regard. Last night as well, I enjoyed 'You've Got Mail' at the brilliant suggestion of my roommate Amy. I'd forgotten how visually beautiful everything was, especially Kathleen's flat. And I about died with joy over the streets of New York City, as usual. And I think we can all agree the soundtrack does the heart good.
Today the March sky remains cloudy, and birds can be seen tossed about as they try to fly against the wind. But the mercury is in the lower sixties and the air entirely agreeable. I was able to avail myself of the weather momentarily as I ambled out to administer brief ablution to my car in the form of pine sol and ground coffee.... one doesn't want spilled chili to languish in one's principle mode of transportation.
Having finished there, one's thoughts naturally stray to the long and hot bath. But I was able to stop off at the mat for today's yoga, not wishing to make one concession where others might follow. And I was able to move carefully and with awareness (which is, after all, the point) so as not to over-tax the body while still moving breath and muscle.
But now, yes, I am ensconced in a bath, doused liberally with four-thieves oil. That hot and fragrant steam doing wonders for the head. Very necessary too, as I have already employed pseudoephed in minimizing the pain to my spine induced by sinus pressure. I'm now contemplating soothing suppers and an evening movie.
As for my appalling lack of blogposts of late, I can only say that as days stream busy by, it can be increasingly difficult to write about them, or to find time to write about anything else. And the more heart-filled and full of glorious moments they are, the more I don't want to belittle that swirl of living, by one quick line of a post, attempting to sum up what a week has held. Impossible.
So I shan't try. Little bits that make it in here--like Tuesday morning drives to work when the ducks are flying over in pairs and you know spring is on it's way in: the ducks are back! And looking for nests (Wednesday morning it was geese)--when little bits make it in here, you know that there are a hundred other moments it would be impossible to share here. Inspiring quotes, and enlightening conversations; words of wisdom, love shared, fellowship over food. Fears and joys, and giving to God. Ministry opportunities, and prayers answered; and nights when your head hits the pillow and you have no idea how you're going to face tomorrow.
And then the sun rises
and the birds are singing to you
and people smile
and music moves you
and God is closer than your breath
and suddenly all you want to do is live and love well.