Monday morning. Feeling rushed, overtired, and foggy headed, I look out the window at the garden. Brilliant leaves of red, gold and orange cover the patio pavers. Those still hanging on silently drift down on a gentle breeze. Maria and her gang put the garden to sleep for the winter this past week, leaving only a few red roses and one lone, beautifully pink echinacea to remind me that life is still there, even when it goes underground for the winter. Brown, crusty leaves of Lenten Roses, are dying back and new green leaf shoots are beginning to show. Their flowers will fill the dark days of February lasting into March, April, and maybe even May, before they give way to summer blooming plants.
It’s cold this morning and heavy rain is promised later in the day. I remove my shoes and socks, wander barefoot through the leaves, listening to their crunch, examining their outrageous colors, and letting my feet taste the cold that the coming months will bring.
I ask myself, Why must I rush about? My eyes had a hard time opening this morning. The warmth of my quilt, along with Sam and Max’s warm bodies snuggled up against my legs kept me from wanting to throw the covers back and jump into morning. Can’t I stay here just a few more minutes?
But unending lists and necessity pried away my comfort. Closing the window that keeps my bedroom very cool, I rushed into the bathroom. The litany of when and where I have to be played over and over again in my head. An old record stuck in the mud of have-to’s.
As I walked the dogs and had my breakfast of hot tea, yogurt, walnuts and berries, I reviewed the things I would be unable to do because I had too many other things to do. I wouldn’t have time to take a nice long walk, sans dogs. There would be no time to finish reading that book I’ve had a hard time closing at night, and taking a nap would be out of the question. Forget the idea of doing some visual art.
It’s got to stop, I thought. Would I be living this way if I knew I only had a month to live? Isn’t it time to pay attention to the time I fill with more and more things, making it sometimes impossible to do what I have at the top of my priority list? Like taking time to stretch my body and let it rest when it’s tired?
It’s a chronic problem of mine. I’m just too damned interested in way too many things. I love learning and want to know why the world is the way it is. In the stillness under the quest to know more I think, Maybe if I can figure out why I’m so tired all the time, I can do even more?
In early September I made the mistake of signing up for two OLLI classes offered at the University. I chose, Elephant Sense and Sensibility, and How to Be an Olympic Swimmer in the Aging Tsunami. I love elephants, have seen them up close in the wild, and wanted to learn more about them from a man who probably knows it all and has a book or two to prove it. As to the second class, I thought it would be useful to learn more about where I am on the aging curve and what to expect as I move on down the road.
Both classes started last week, one on Monday, the other on Wednesday. I had other things to do those days. I rushed here and there, feeling unsatisfied and angry. The weekend passed by too quickly, filled with too many more things to do and not enough time to catch up on what I neglected to do last week.
Now, as I traipse through the leaves, freezing my toes off, I know it’s time to be honest with myself. I can read those books about elephants anytime. And I’ll figure out where I am on the aging curve as I go.
I throw out the idea of going to class, allow time for a long, leisurely walk around the neighborhood (with shoes), an hour to finish that book I am reading, and another hour or two for sitting and writing this blog post which I tried unsuccessfully to put together yesterday.
The glue is gone from my eyes. I no longer feel exhausted and my day is spread out before me. The mud where I was stuck has dried up. I’m no longer angry.
Being in the moment, knowing how I’m feeling, and what I need to do to take care of myself is what I need to do more of. Like the garden, I’m settling in as the days shorten and the wind blows colder. Spring really is just around the corner and after resting for a few months I’ll be ready to spring into action once again.
Does the arrival of fall and winter make you want to settle down and rest?
