Sunday, March 30, 2008

Time off

It is, after all, the weekend, and I have to retrain myself every time I get a day off from the work I do, the work that is so much from my heart. I remember long ago, experiencing job burn out, closing my eyes to sleep and seeing the steam and water pipes of the packing house behind my eyelids before dozing off. This week it took a full day for me to drop the emotional link to the folks I get to work with.

Before I left work Friday I was already wishing I could stay longer to see a couple of people in the hospital one last time. I knew better. Yet I felt torn. I could not stop thinking about them through dinner with friends, nor through a concert later in the evening. The next morning I felt a little better. Sore joints in my hands told me I needed time off to physically recover from the rigors of the week. I was not able to be very productive, and that's fine. I realize that I need to let down time be down time, and not try to cram a days worth of cleaning into it to justify it. I did some light dusting and some serious art work. I read. All of this helped me 'let go'.

Today was even better. I slept in and it felt wonderful and nourishing. Again, I put in some glassworking time, and later in the day, was able to take a snowshoe walk with BiL. I always grumble a bit as I am putting on the gear, but once I get over the inertia (as BiL calls it) I am always delighted to be crunching along on the snow. Letting my eyes refocus on the distant snow covered hills and peaks relieves my stress in indescribable ways.

Tomorrow we may even ski. BiL tends to be an obsessive worker in his teaching, but he is also pretty incredible at knowing when to manage some break time. My thanks to him.

Saturday, March 29, 2008

Live well.

I can hardly believe it has been so long since I've last checked in here. Wow. I am married now. That's huge news. But in reviewing my last entry, I want to write that I am continuing to learn from my hospice and palliative care peeps.

Imagine this, that you suddenly see the end of your personal tunnel. What do you do? Who do you call upon? And how does all of this touch those who are close to you? The answers are as many as there are individuals. Some of you reading this already have more than theoretical answers. For the rest of us, we can only suppose.

More to come.