Once there was a way to get back homeward
Once there was a way to get back home, sleep pretty darling please don't cry...and I will sing a lullaby. -Golden Slumbers by the Beatles
Of course, I am not slumbering at the moment. I spent too much time immersed in King of Dragon Pass and now my melatonin levels are upset. Or I'm on my second or third wind. It doesn't even matter, except that I feel stupid for staying up so late when I wanted to take the kids to the park in the morning for a playdate with friends who may or may not show up. That doesn't matter either. But I'll go to get out of the house and spend time in this gorgeous autumn weather.
I didn't come to the realization that I crave the outdoors until I spent too much time cooped up in the house due to the sweltering heat of Georgia summers. It turns out that I need to spend hours outside, walking and exploring and enjoying mother nature. It also turns out that I'm allergic to Georgia in spring and early summer, and allergic to mown grass and compost heaps and leaves decaying. Additionally, winter is drab, frigid, and unwelcoming here. Think wan, pale sunlight in a dreary greyblueblahish sky with dead dead trees and grass but no snow to soften things up. Yep, that's winter. But it's mild enough come early February that you think you can start planting and you might be right. I was this year. Then it gets cold again, and warm again, and cold- what a tease! So. I spend as much time as I can outdoors in the spring, planning and planting my garden and enjoying watching the world unfurl while dosed on allergy meds and using the equivalent of a neti pot. Early summer has its own delights of watching my plants emerge and grow and visiting a u-pick strawberry farm. Then the weather changes and it's no outside time after 9 AM unless you want to spend the rest of the day recovering. By 7 pm, it's mostly safe to emerge again, but you have to negotiate with the mosquitoes. Late summer gives tantalizing glimpses of autumn and you think it has arrived and the humidity and oppressive heat are gone. But no. Again, the weather proves tricksy. Yet once fall arrives, it's so wonderful that you spend two or three hours outside at a time just because you can. And there are the festivals- the arts fest and the Greek festival and the Living History days at a local museum park. We're going to an apple festival this year- it better be worth the three hour drive, but how could it not with a hard apple cider tasting?
So. That's how it is. I'm feeling more connected to my home and garden, but less connected to the people here. Everyone is going in different directions, and I just can't find enough energy/will/desire to make the extra effort. That's okay. There's a time for out-and-about-ness, and a time for focusing on the home, a time for sharing with friends and a time for waking up one's inner self. A time for mom's morning out, and a time for starting a simple homeschool rhythm.
And a time to focus on connection and stop dis-integrating. That is something I am having a lot of trouble with. I suspect it is because I am an introvert and NEED time to myself, and am not finding it. Either the children need my attention, or I have a list of shoulds. No wonder I'm awake at nearly three in the morning, writing in a journal I all but abandoned almost three years ago.
I'm so tired. But sleep feels so ominous. How is it that 27 years into life, I'm still afraid of falling asleep?
Of course, I am not slumbering at the moment. I spent too much time immersed in King of Dragon Pass and now my melatonin levels are upset. Or I'm on my second or third wind. It doesn't even matter, except that I feel stupid for staying up so late when I wanted to take the kids to the park in the morning for a playdate with friends who may or may not show up. That doesn't matter either. But I'll go to get out of the house and spend time in this gorgeous autumn weather.
I didn't come to the realization that I crave the outdoors until I spent too much time cooped up in the house due to the sweltering heat of Georgia summers. It turns out that I need to spend hours outside, walking and exploring and enjoying mother nature. It also turns out that I'm allergic to Georgia in spring and early summer, and allergic to mown grass and compost heaps and leaves decaying. Additionally, winter is drab, frigid, and unwelcoming here. Think wan, pale sunlight in a dreary greyblueblahish sky with dead dead trees and grass but no snow to soften things up. Yep, that's winter. But it's mild enough come early February that you think you can start planting and you might be right. I was this year. Then it gets cold again, and warm again, and cold- what a tease! So. I spend as much time as I can outdoors in the spring, planning and planting my garden and enjoying watching the world unfurl while dosed on allergy meds and using the equivalent of a neti pot. Early summer has its own delights of watching my plants emerge and grow and visiting a u-pick strawberry farm. Then the weather changes and it's no outside time after 9 AM unless you want to spend the rest of the day recovering. By 7 pm, it's mostly safe to emerge again, but you have to negotiate with the mosquitoes. Late summer gives tantalizing glimpses of autumn and you think it has arrived and the humidity and oppressive heat are gone. But no. Again, the weather proves tricksy. Yet once fall arrives, it's so wonderful that you spend two or three hours outside at a time just because you can. And there are the festivals- the arts fest and the Greek festival and the Living History days at a local museum park. We're going to an apple festival this year- it better be worth the three hour drive, but how could it not with a hard apple cider tasting?
So. That's how it is. I'm feeling more connected to my home and garden, but less connected to the people here. Everyone is going in different directions, and I just can't find enough energy/will/desire to make the extra effort. That's okay. There's a time for out-and-about-ness, and a time for focusing on the home, a time for sharing with friends and a time for waking up one's inner self. A time for mom's morning out, and a time for starting a simple homeschool rhythm.
And a time to focus on connection and stop dis-integrating. That is something I am having a lot of trouble with. I suspect it is because I am an introvert and NEED time to myself, and am not finding it. Either the children need my attention, or I have a list of shoulds. No wonder I'm awake at nearly three in the morning, writing in a journal I all but abandoned almost three years ago.
I'm so tired. But sleep feels so ominous. How is it that 27 years into life, I'm still afraid of falling asleep?