Is there ever a normal week in my life? I can remember thinking sometime in July of last year, “maybe now things will slow down a little bit.” Ha!
This week has seen the end of the holidays, and the return of school days. Quite cheery about that one. But I’ve been staying up so late that I’ve had trouble getting the ball rolling in the morning. And today was spent running errands in Asheville. It wasn’t so terrible, really–I got to hang out with my brother Sean, and shop at the AmaZing Savings, wherein I bought $300 worth of (mostly organic) groceries for $140–but it took up the whole day. When I walked into the house, grocery bags in tow, Renee was sitting at the table. I sat down beside her and she said plaintively, “Momma, I’ve hardly got to see you today! You’ve been gone all day! Can I snuggle with you in your bed?”
Yes, yes, yes.
While she and I were hanging out on my bed, J got a business call from a prospective client. Seems like he’ll be making his visit, previously arranged for mid-December, on Friday of this week, which means my Wednesday and Thursday will definitely be tied up in getting ready for that. And my Friday will be tied up with the actual visit.
This person’s visit is a good thing–for J, for me, for our finances. It could definitely bring about a major shift in not just our income, but in J’s career. I’m very positive about it, mostly. I don’t want to put one iota of resentment into any of the work I do to help J get things ready. But when does it all end? I want to be working in my studio, or walking the paths of inspiration. It seems like that always gets frittered away. Only when I am hyper-vigilant does there seem to be time, and I don’t particularly like the way hyper-vigilance feels.
Today I had a small pot of intention bubbling on the back of my stove: “to do my work, to be inspired and find the right time for my work.” And while it’s true, I got nothing done today, I did achieve a level of clarity about what it is, exactly, that I want to be creating. All I can do is just keep walking my path, paying attention to the moment, harvesting the beauty of the day, and then store it in the warehouse of my heart. One day the door will open for me, will swing open wide.
So, maybe I’ll see the studio this Saturday? Next Monday? Maybe I’ll squeeze in an hour tomorrow. I’ve got my fingers crossed.