It is Wednesday night but I will post tomorrow. I am in a hotel room. My wonderful husband read my last blog, the sentence about how I wanted oh, a weeks vacation and this is what he did. Booked me a room. A room of one's own, I have right now. And it's almost nine o'clock and I am just now able to process any sort of coherent share-able thought. This whole deal was last minute. He told me and I packed and came. And then sort-of freaked. I brought every writing notebook I own and my drawing paper and my laptop and my homework (which I did first) and then I had somewhat of a silent neurasthenia. I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe a breakthrough, but not a breakdown. I felt this maniacal idea bobbing over me that I had to heal. Right now. Today. Get it all out. It was going to be dramatic. God was going to send me into tears and then lift me up with secrets of my future...or something like that. I was also going to finish my novel.
Suffice it to say, none of that happened. Really, I just tried to ignore the horrible aching of homesickness and rationalize my fear of leaving the room to go to the pool, while begging God to show me whatever it was He wanted me to see. Finally, I gave up and listened to music and drew and I think I did hear a bit of what I was supposed to. And then I called up my old roommate and talked through some of the craziness and it helped.
"...good communication is stimulating as black coffee...."-Anne Morrow Lindbergh
So here I am. Here. Wherever. But here. And I think the freak out was good. Because I realized that, while maybe there's a part of me that's a contemplative, that craves this alone time, the bigger part of me is now so deeply tied to my husband and my children and my home and the routine. Perhaps the creative is nourished better even when I'm allowed to slip away throughout the day to blog, or write in my notebook but with space and time galore I sink a little under it all. Lindbergh also wrote, "Reeling a little from our intense absorption, we come back with relief to the small chores...as if they were lifelines to reality-as if we had indeed almost drowned in the sea of intellectual work and welcomed the firm ground of physical action under our feet." Maybe I need the chores, the physicality to experience the soft touches of the deep.
I am seeing things I've never seen before. I am still on the cusp but I don't necessarily have to dive head first into it all. Maybe just to announce that I am healing is healing. I can set aside the notions I've had of facing things head on. God's got it covered. It will be revealed in His timing....if it needs to be.