Move much and accomplish little. This seems to be my current operating mode. I am upright most of the time. When I am tired I sit. Bed is the worst, but really, don't you think I spent enough time there? Even getting myself to go to sleep seems difficult. I want to keep puttering about, puttering and resting and puttering some more.
It is not very efficient. I can't lift much. I can't go where I want when I want because I haven't been able to drive, but that is changing. Mostly, I can't focus. I don't believe I have been this absent-minded in ages. Perhaps this is some kind of reactionary inter-cellular phenomenon, freedom from excessive stillness breeds excessive puttering.
I think I am calming down now. At least I seem able to string words together into some semblence of thought. The better I have felt physically, the more fragmented and scattered my thoughts have become. I must be feeling better because I am getting particular again, starting to set things to rights around the house, my version of "rights" that is.
Some parts of this process are good. It is good to be taking care of myself, taking care of my space.
I went to the farmer's market with a friend who could drive and schlepp. She even brought one of the chairs around front from the back porch, so I could sit and plant the flowers she so kindly carried for me. Even that, without lifting or bending, was enough work. But the joy experienced for the effort expended is phenomenal. There are no more dried twigs in the planters, stark reminders of my incarceration. Instead there are flowers. And the flowers make me smile. Soon I will sit out on the screened porch, surrounded by flowers and soft breezes. Monday was pollen scrubbing day, although I only did a tiny bit of the scrubbing and none of the heavy lifting. There is still a little scrubbing left, but only the small stuff, the things I can do myself. I can accept that it may take 2 days to accomplish what took half a day last summer, and I suspect that there is a lesson there somewhere, about enjoying the process of one's life. I hope I don't lose that thought along the way.
There, I think my head may be a trifle clearer now. Perhaps a little nesting helps the brain to settle as well.
Comments
4 responses to “Peripatetic”
Nesting does help to settle the brain, I think, even when it requires all kinds of research and self-educating:). Very happy to hear reports of your progress in healing.
Mardel – how wonderful to get to know you better through this. I’m so glad it showed up on FB. I look forward to reading more. Emily Vreeland
Your planter is beautiful. I can’t believe you managed that so soon after your procedure. I sense it’s totally normal to be scrambled after a long bout of immobility and pain, followed by a veritable operation. So I think the planting shows a tremendous amount of focus.
Oh, this is good to read! I know the process feels frustratingly slow to you, but how wonderful that you were able to get out, choose the plants, and then arrange them yourself so cheerfully. You’re on the mend!