In the clouds - literally and figuratively - on my way back from Italy.
And yesterday as well.
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Ups and downs.
Highs and lows.
Singing and watching and crying along with Obama's video.
Worrying about what will happen if we start another war in another nation.
Helping Kristiana with her math and Spanish assignments.
Figuring out how we will get back and forth to a basketball game that starts at 8:30 tonight; the game is 45 minutes away. We are playing against a team that has two gyms in a Catholic church less than ten minutes away. It's a school night. What were the organizers thinking?
Helping Daniel make some final changes and corrections on a paper due yesterday. Encouraging him to stay strong and do his best on his exams this week. Wishing he could just stay home and avoid the entire exchange.
Cleaning the house and setting everything up before and then cleaning everything up after the Super Bowl party. Feeling sorry for myself: "Why do I have to do everything around here?"
Maya makes everyone who enters our home laugh and smile and want to play with her. But she still leaves wet and lumpy "gifts" around the house. Only once a month or so - just often enough to make me crazy.
Notice a pattern?
Me feeling sorry for myself.
Not standing up for myself.
Not taking care of myself.
Me, me, me, me.
Take a really deep breath, G.
Go read a book.
Go drink tea.
Write in your journal.
Pray. Meditate.
Remember the great blessings of your life.
Reminisce about the recent journey.
That was a delicious sandwich, consumed as I sat under the portico of the Pantheon on a rainy day in Rome.
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Reread your gratitude journals.
Prepare for the journaling class and those beautiful, smart, expressive women who await you.
Reach out to your sisters online, on the phone, and in spirit.
Yesterday was one of those emotionally stormy, "feel sorry for myself" days.
Today is a new day. Some of the clouds still linger, but the sky within is clearing.
I am slowly reminding myself, remembering this simple truth:
All is well.
All is well.
All manner of things shall be well.
I had a really yummy sandwich in this tiny restaurant in Trastevere;
that's the funky, independent, not-so-touristy part of Rome on the other side of the Tevere River.
Can you find me in this picture? (I like these "seek and find photos," don't I?)
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This photo is the perfect metaphor for what I need to do right now:
Cross the river. Find a quiet place. Ignore the hustle and bustle.
Eat. Pray. Love.
Off to have lunch and "find myself"- my joyful, peaceful, wise, loving, gracious self - again.
Peace. Out.
3 comments:
Gail,
A lot of my recent scripture reading has highlighted how Jesus frequently departed to escape the crowds. I'm there, too, and it sounds like you are. We do what we must.
How exciting to eat under the portico of the Pantheon! Was it a bit surreal?
interesting. i feel like you could find me in the river, waiting, scared.
soaked.
meet me there?
Yes, jmbg, I would love to wade into the water and huddle with you. To talk. To float. To look up at the sky above us and wait to be rescued - or to figure out how to rescue ourselves. I will meet you there.
Amy, I do need to depart from the crowds. Time alone. It's always tough after my trips to adjust to living with a crowd around all the time.
The Pantheon meal? Yes, it felt surreal. The whole trip felt that way. At least five times, maybe even ten times, each day, I would slow down my walking pace, look up from whatever I was doing or concentrating on, and tell myself, "Slow down, Gail. You are in Rome. Feel it. Breathe it. Live it." Many times each day. It all felt pressingly real and patently surreal. I went to the Pantheon three or four times to look up through the hole in the ceiling. To stand. Close my eyes. Feel it. It was a wonder-filled trip in so many ways. Perhaps I'll write more about it...
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