The air is cool, the birds chirp, the windows are open.
In my sleep, I dreamt I was climbing up a steep hill, had to hold the hand of a woman beside me just to get up to the top and when I got there, I was dizzy, had to sit down. I was somewhere on the east side near water, my beloved water, and I was late in picking up the kids, so I had to ask the navigation to direct me toward them, and it kept getting lost.
I am tired this Saturday morning.
The two weeks when the children are with their dad I had thought would be a perfect time to reconnect with myself, catch up work and writing and play, finally order the bar mitzvah photos and create an album for Asher. But no. There is never time. I have let it all get away from me, even now.
My favorite day thus far was Thursday, not because it was my birthday, but because it began with master swim at 6 a.m. and finished with rowing on the Detroit River at 6 p.m. A perfect day because it was bookended by the activities I love, both involving water.
Water: middle ground between the activity of rivers and the passiveness and reflection of lakes; linear flow of time; cleansing, life, freedom; baptism into something holy; renewal, rebirth, birth.
For Native Americans, the water symbol represents one of the most vital elements for sustaining life, signifying life, fertility, purity.
Yesterday I awoke, sad because it would be 5 days before I would get to row again. Even a day like yesterday with no high-strung client commitments passed too quickly and then it was night and I lay down tired and spent, as if the time just did me in.
What does it take to balance work and play? Because I am nowhere near an answer.
What does it mean when we life take hold of us and speed by too quickly to really notice the moments? It’s not enough to just write a blog and snap a picture of right now, this here. We have to actually live it, too, and feel it between our fingers.