Let us begin again…
So Monday has become a crazy confluence of work, home and family predicaments. Many of which are anxiety-inducing, so much so that I’m contemplating calling my doctor for Xanax. My prescription ran out years ago, and I cannot even find an expired little orange something around here. I’ve already looked.
My “cup runnething over” in real life today looks more like “my toilet running over” in the literal and metaphorical sense. A business colleague is reneging on a deal in a calculated, venemous and hostile way; a certain special someone has been particularly unpleasant in relation to his own relocation; I am up to my elbows in a project that I really like, but I feel as though I’m juggling about 17 flaming torches and I’m anxious not to burn any structures down in the process. My dammit doll is getting a serious workout; unfortunately, I am not. Meanwhile, I’m carrying all the standard-issue maternal anxiety related to children in various stages of dependence and independence. All those things happening separately might even be tolerable, it’s just that all of everything is happening at the same time, and it’s making me crazy. My head is spinning with details and my chair is swirling with activity.
As if on cue, my college student calls. He is up to his own eyeballs in alligators and asks for help proofreading a paper. Of course, I say yes. Nothing is more important to me, not because I love writing (although I do), but because I love him. I’m in the middle of spreadsheets and proposals and emails, and I stop all of it to review his work. It is, in fact, my highest priority of the day. In about the time it takes me to take a deep breath, he sends me a text message: “You’re the best.”
In that moment all the noise fades to the background, because I love my son and he loves me, and we have a relationship, flawed and beautiful and real. And it’s just wow.
The other stuff will work its way through, and some of it may well be toxic and disagreeable, but I will hold to this one little light to carry me through today.
And Oh! I remember something else. On the top of my list of tasks for today is to mail graduation announcements for another of my sons. Two lights.
And just like that, with one little interruption and a burst of gratitude, one light has become two, and the day is looking better. Just bright enough to make it through until Tuesday.
Wishing you light and strength on your healing path. And one little interruption.