Pacing. Some days; despite my best intentions, there is just chaos. Yesterday I woke at a little later than intended. I wrote for a while, got ready for work, swept the living room floor, prodded Evan to get ready for school. I left the house at 8:20. I thought I would have enough time to pay the after school care person, put Tristan's bike in the car so I could take it to the repair shop after work, get gas, deliver books for the store at Evan's school and still have a good amount of time to sit at the local coffee shop to deal with online stuff. All before 10:00 in the morning; when I have to go to work.
What was I thinking?
If, as I planned, it all went according to design the morning would have been busy. I should know at this point that it never goes according to plan. It started with a hiccup at the day care. We ended up chatting for a few minutes to take care of logistics. Then , the bike would not fit in the car; of course. Finally, I had to stop for gas if I wanted to go anywhere else. Evan did arrive to school on time, I did make it down town but not before feeling swept up in the pin ball machine that had become the morning.
Work was brief and,well ,somedays; as much as I love my job, it can be work. I had a “something” I had to deal with when “something” else got in the way. Which left no time to take care of the first something before I had to meet Evan at the bus.
Somedays, just leaving the house with clothes on can feel like a big accomplishment.
Once home I find I can switch gears. Evan shared his day. We had a snack. We changed into our play clothes. He packed his bag for his weekend with his dad and I went to the garden to see what needs to be picked.
A second crop of broccoli is coming on like gangbusters. The first crop has been sending out a multitude of florets. There are tomatoes, cucumbers and an abundance of famine food we call zuchinni. There is a heft to the harvest basket. Once these are gleaned I move on the berries.
A chance to really slow down. I can feel the gears shifting; third into second. Elderberries are plump and plentiful this year. Another rush of everbearing raspberries has invited the hum of bumble bees. They must prepare for winter as well. The black berries were late this year. When I think of the many quarts of berries I keep in the freezer I marvel at the fact that I have touched every single berry. One at a time they are proof of a collection of sunny days, quiet moments and the joys I had sharing some of this job with Evan. In those moments when I am picking I know for sure that I am day dreaming, catching those cosmic lines that will only fall near you when you have that quiet moment.
Now that the berries are here I feel inspired to make wine and jam of the assorted berries I've gathered. This may be work too but never feels like it.
Pacing. Somedays there is no pacing. It can feel hard to find those quiet moments that allow one simple thing...a breath.
Thank goodness for berries.