A Tuesday in February

So many things coming at me all the time. All. The. Time. Keeping up is a challenge, but usually one I confidently manage. Thank God.

However, sometimes steamrolling happens. And tumbling as in the ocean's surf. Too much in my brain; clutter, seemingly impossible-to-solve problems. My limbic system is overloaded. Fear, panic, confusion, distress, anger.

This morning exhaustion reminds me that I need to rest and re-evaluate and for good reasons. Not only will I fail at constructively moving forward in my life, but my body will abruptly stop me if I don't take the time to relieve the log-jam in my mind.

So, I stop. I go back to bed after dropping precious daughter off at school in the early morning hours.

And I sleep the sleep of the just. I devour the sensation. My brain works out my problems while my body comfortably rests and restores in a sweet-smelling bed, in a sunlit room. Two hours. In the end I dream of a beautiful, white room, walled with clear, sun-streaming windows, a sparkling, wide-stretching wood floor, smooth and perfectly clean. Empty of furniture. It is an image of my mind. Stillness, loveliness, order replace confusion. Serenity. Relief.

The problems that unsettle me no longer do. Smiling a silly, happy smile I yawn, dress, chuckle. Life makes sense again. I feel like cooking a meal, like teaching algebra, like studying my current topics, like washing the towels, like being cheerful, patient, and kind.

What a difference ceasing makes, allowing my depleted body and mind to sort, organize, and rest. Catch-up.

The day is calm, quiet, productive, nourishing.

Thank God.