Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Settling, settling, into a new routine


One of my strongest wishes for the year is to find myself comfortably enmeshed in a routine, in some comfortable regularity of schedule.  I don't think I felt this feeling for all of last year -- in some ways probably a post-cancer phenomenon of not knowing quite what to do with myself without the tight corset of chemo every three weeks and caring for Joe in between.  That diminishment of focus was so powerful, that once the need for it was removed, I think I kind of floundered around, regaling in freedom from it, flying after everything that was not It.  [I am enjoying that last sentence with its fishy-, then birdy-ness.]  But now, after a year of that flying flounder, I am craving the feeling of feet on the ground.

The image of the falling leaf feels right, though of course, seasonally-speaking, it's all wrong; I think I'm catching up on the seasons, in a funny way.  Autumn did pass in a blur for me, in my concerted work to plot my next move, to change my job.  And then the frenzy of labor I was in from mid-November through the end of last week -- phew, it's no wonder I feel like I missed entire months.

Now, with less to do, I'm experiencing the free-fall a bit.  I had moments yesterday and Monday afternoon, at work in my new office, of feeling bored.  Bored.  A bored sleepiness coming over me, afternoon doldrums, the product of not having enough to do.  I had to keep reminding myself that this is how it can be when you start a new job, that the new people don't want to scare you or overtax you so they mete out the information on some feeding schedule appropriate to that culture.  It will change, naturally.  This time of not having enough to do or read or think about will vanish, never to return, so I'm experiencing it as a novelty and appreciating its fleetingness, as I continue to fall through it, to the waiting ground below.

Part of the free-fall is the stress de-tox.  I have had three nights running of falling into bed, dead, at 9am, sleeping, dead, all night, and awakening a little less bleary every day.  This morning I feel pretty great, positive, ready to go, not filled with dread as I have been most week-day mornings for years.  That's good.  The particularly painful spot in my left cheek where I carry a lot of stress is relaxing more each day, so I obsess less and less about the notion that really, it's some kind of tumor.  It's not, it's a stress ball, a different kind of tumor, one I'm disappearing with sleep and peacefulness.

So, about that routine...  It will evolve.  Right now, I'm enjoying the settling and letting it be slow.  It's amazing to go from home to job in the morning in 15 minutes.  It's amazing to be able to walk to lunch with Joe.  It's amazing to leave work at 5, have time to stop by the pet store and the grocery store, and still be home by 5:45.

The falling is part of the landing, right, leads to the landing, so I'm enjoying it while it delivers me ever-downward, gently, to the ground.  Oh how wonderful to let go and fall, full trust in what lies below.

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