I took a few days break from The Many Things To Do. Cherished Friend visited this corner of the desert, and he and Beloved Husband and I did This and That, perused the sporting goods stores, and took a walk in a small and surprising wetland here in the middle of the desert. It was a relief to put aside all the many projects and to think about other things to which to look forward, such as camping.
It was hard to unwind the busy brain and not fret about what needs to be done and what is imminently forthcoming in the future, even in the presence of my favorite company. The desert was refreshing, though, and for a few minutes this afternoon, I nodded off listening to their conversation as they discussed the intricacies of a project of Beloved Husband's. So soothing, the timbre of their voices.
Though it has not been that many weeks since Cherished Friend's last visit (he was here for Thanksgiving), it seemed as though it has somehow been a long time. And I realized that it is, in fact, temporarily easier on the heart not to think about how much one misses someone else's company when that person is a distance away. To avoid feeling that emotion, though, does change the perception of a visit: it is somehow more nostalgic, and time flies ever more quickly; and the realization of what one has missed is more abundant than ever. Alas.
Perhaps the difficulties of the past few months -- the many medical tasks of November, the intensity of the holidays, the losses of January -- have exhausted my ability to process All The Feelings. There will come a time, though, when I will have made it through all The Many Things To Do, and I will be light as a feather, and have the luxury of allowing emotions to be present and wash over and through me. In time.
One day at a time, one small emotion at a time. I will get through.
A man on a thousand mile walk has to forget his goal and say to himself every morning, 'Today I'm going to cover twenty-five miles and then rest up and sleep.' ― Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace