Just today ...

Hi family. I am sitting at the kitchen table, wasting time, avoding my housework. It's Wednesday, one of the days I don't have to work, and mercifully, I didn't get called for jury duty today. Nice.

This not doing housework thing is something new since losing Dad. We talked about it the other night, some friends and I ... someone was saying they didn't know how they could carry on after a severe loss, that they might curl up and just fade away. And I asked myself silently, how did I do it? How am I doing it?

Someone mentioned denial, which I think they defined as refusing to deal with it. And I asked, is this me? Am I refusing to face the pain? We talked about walking through, wading in and facing pain and loneliness for what it is, and I realized that this is me. I definitely haven't hidden from it; I've learned how to make space for it. I stay quiet when I want to be quiet ... and I leave messes when I don't feel like dealing with them. I've learned to use baskets for piles of paper or piles of life-articles that I don't want to deal with one day ... knowing that another day (oe later the same day) I will have the energy to go through and deliver the item to its destination.

I do some things early when the energy and opportunity avails itself, learning that there are times that I won't feel like doing it. And I think that all of this has just become a new state of normal for me, and that's a good thing. This attitude that it's okay to allow myself to do what the moment calls for. I think I've always felt a deep consciousness of self, but maybe this circumstance has allowed me to go deeper; to have the confidence that my energies ebb and flow ... wax and wane.

Earlier I said, making space for "it." And it's interesting that I can't quantify what "it" is. Maybe that's best. Maybe it's just learning that I need space for my heart and mind to heal and continue. It's learning that in the space I allow (whether reading a novel or reading the Bible, or knitting or talking on the phone), my heart (God!) shoots me messages about how to continue on, and to learn from the thoughts and pain. And to me, that's good. And I am thankful for His loving care.

So here in this quiet moment where I thought of all of you, and how we aren't doing well at the blogging thing, I decided to just sit and write what came to mind. This is what it is.