A messy week of workplace insanity and domestic instability, AND I’ve had a slight head cold.
My son and I swapped houses for 4 days – the inside of his house is being painted and he didn’t want to stay there with the painters all day.
I’ve been in his house for 4 days now. There’s nothing in it except one bed and 4 painters.
I am camping.
The painters finish today so my son and I will move all our belongings back into our own houses this evening. It’s unavoidable but I’ll miss Darrin’s yoga class tonight (after buying a 10 class pass last week).
My life feels slippery, I have no ground to stand on, and I don’t mind it at all.
Speaking of camping, I’m heading off to Pondilowie again this weekend - leaving Friday morning (I'm taking an annual leave day from work) and returning Sunday evening.
Three days in a tent, and the weather will be warm…perfect.
Already this weekend trip feels completely different to the one I did last month – my mind state is different. Mark’s death is receding rapidly into the distant past and the emotional intensity is seeping away with it.
Or perhaps that’s not the case, perhaps I’ve been kept so distracted by work and the avalanche of daily life commitments that I haven’t had any mental space to think about it.
Is that a good thing? I don’t know.
Three days camping alone on the sand dunes - a pause – an opportunity to catch my breath, to exhale fully and expel accumulated mental waste, time to inhale new inspiration and to breathe open the expanding black hole created by the Love-Death lesson of my life.