The waves are crashing all around me, trying but not quite making it to my feet. They hit the rock line hard, angry, churning. The rocks themselves? They are content to be warming up with the sun.
Me? Content for the first time in over a month.
I’ve spent the weekend in Cleveland, a little solo trip. The main purpose was to see my good friend play in a rugby match. The secondary purpose was to rest. Truly rest. And read. And work on my novel. And be accountable only to myself.
(I started this blog while sitting on those sunning rocks, but it’s still cold out, Winter battling to stay, Spring aching to show up, so I’ll finish this later, inside, where I can maintain the feeling in my fingers.. and may I say I love this Freewrite Traveler I bought?)
A full week and some days have passed since starting this post. A thousand gallons of rain have fallen, we’ve harvested pounds of asparagus from our patch, and our lilac bush has finished blooming.
My trip to Cleveland sunk deeper into my bones than I realized, sitting atop that rock by the water. Yes, it was the most content and relaxed I had been in over a month, but allowing myself to fully get there opened the door to so many more feelings of exhaustion.
You know how you go about your days thinking, “I’m so tired, but just keep pushing. Get through this next thing. Take a quick nap, wake up, and push. Push. You’re not THAT tired. You are sleeping well. You’re eating (fairly) well. You’re exercising. You’re not THAT tired.”
And then you fully relax.
You go on a vacation, or you binge watch an entire season and don’t leave your couch for two days. Or you go on a trip to Cleveland with nothing on your schedule but a rugby game.
Hello, deep deep bone-deep tired.
I’ve spent the last week or so recovering from feeling recovered. It’s an odd paradox, the act of relaxing making you feel more tired. But we’ve all been there.
I think, at least.
Another week has passed.
Two weeks? Who is keeping time anymore.
I rested, recovered, and then found an inner well of energy that hasn’t been full in what feels like ages (time is funny that way).
Spring is truly here, as I wipe at my eyes and watch pollen clouds swirling outside. THe air is dense with the potential of Summer.
So cheers, friends, to recovering. To honoring where you’re at and choosing where to push. To being intentional about how hard you try and where.
Now At A Farm 