October 19, 2005

I’ve been thinking about sadness and how it sometimes seeps in and takes root. I’m usually a pretty cheerful person — the kind who smiles at everyone and bounces back quickly. I haven't been laughing much over the past couple of weeks, even though I know that’s what’s most needed during tough times, so I've been looking for lighthearted moments in addition to trying to make sure I don't burn myself out as I habitually do.

Last time I broke down my anti-weeknotes by day for myself — to make sure that I was not grinding nonstop. It’s tempting to bury oneself in work, but that’s exactly the wrong thing to do when feeling run down. So. Daily check-ins for now. 

Sunday
I made risotto for dinner while listening to an audiobook. I know for some people making risotto is incredibly boring, but it soothes me — like baking. There’s nothing to think about and no decisions to make. I usually listen to an audiobook or to music, have a drink, and stir as needed. 

I also watched some American football with my dad and M. I grew up watching Steelers games with my dad, but I don’t watch much anymore because M & I prefer to watch soccer together. But it was fun to watch some American football together.

Monday
My cousin and his kid came over for a bit, which was nice. I hadn’t seen them in a few months. Then my parents and cousin headed out, and A, M, and I all had individual quiet time. Even the extroverts needed to introvert. I listened to an audiobook and did nothing else for a little while. No multitasking. Only story.

Tuesday
I had a non-stop day, which meant I needed, more than anything, to hit the pause button. After nearly four hours of consecutive meetings, I flopped on my chaise longue and caught my breath. I was wired and tired again and wanted to rest my overstimulated brain. So I did. And dove back into things once I felt quieter.

In the evening, I worked on a small needle punch project. I hadn’t tried needle punching in at least 15 years (probably closer to 20!) and had to reteach myself — my grandmother first taught me when I was 11 years old, and the first thing I did was break the needle — and I had to get used to the movement and the feeling again. The process is quick and easy, which was just what I needed — these little craft projects have been relaxing, and mixing them up keeps me from getting bored. And I started to catch up on some volunteering tasks (with the Argentina vs. Puerto Rico game on in the background), which was oddly soothing, as well.

Wednesday
I read before work — just a chapter, but that was nice. After days of rain, the sun was out, and sunshine and a book seemed like a good way to start the day.

I took a full lunch break and lay down for half an hour. No nap this time, and no book or audiobook, either. A meditative rest. 

Like Le Petit Prince, I watched the sun set. It was spectacular. I didn't try to photograph it or anything. Sometimes taking a photo is a method of close observation, but I knew a phone camera couldn't possibly capture this, and I didn't reflexively try.

Thursday
Reading a book over coffee was such a good way to start the day that I did it again. I love slow mornings and rarely get them, and while this was only half an hour between morning school prep and starting work, it had that same unhurried feeling.

Friday
It was relatively nice out again, and I bundled up in a hat, fingerless gloves, and a fluffy sweatshirt and read during soccer practice until it became too dark out.

Saturday
A & I went to the memorial of a family friend who passed way too young (age 42 – fell down stairs at a restaurant and never recovered from the cranial trauma). This wasn't a break, of course, but it was an afternoon in community. I saw folks I haven't seen in forever, and we all said that the circumstances were terrible but we were glad to see each other.

The memorial was about an hour and 15 minutes from our home, and the day was – incongruously or fittingly? – lovely. I drove down and A drove up, and we admired New England in the fall, the foliage in full effect.

When we got home, well, the sadness was still there, but some of it had been shared. And I unwound with M – we watched a soccer game, as usual, and it turned out to be a particularly fun one.