After a rather long, non productive weekend, I was hoping Monday would find me feeling more energetic, more ready to roll up my shirt sleeves and take on the world.
No such luck.
I’ve been curiously lethargic of late, a feeling I can usually trace to a lack of scheduled activity or responsibility. I realize I need the impetus of deadlines and appointments to keep my metabolism going, and without them I sink into this torpor of inactivity. I was moping around the house yesterday, needing to do something and not feeling like doing anything.
“Can’t you just relax?” my husband (the master of relaxation) asked me. “After all, you worked every day last week, you deserve some time to just chill out.”
“I don’t do relaxing very well,” I admitted. “It makes me kind of mad.”
Jim just shook his head sorrowfully. “I’m doomed,” he said under his breath, returning to his spot in front of the television.
I do feel mad at myself when I’m not being productive…not writing, not practicing, not exercising, not cleaning or cooking or caring for some elderly relative, not playing with the dogs, or brushing them or walking them, not doing something.
Yet while my mind spins furiously with all these things I should do and should want to do, my body feels awfully stubborn about remaining perched in one spot, complaining with increased aches and stiffness about gardneing or biking, invoking extra effort to read with eyes that can no longer bring fine print into focus.
Today started out brightly enough – I did walk the dogs, make some phone calls, settle in to write (right on schedule!) Yet now that the morning is coming to an end, the prospect of a long afternoon stretches before me and I’m feeling a bit directionless.
As we head toward preparations for back to school, I realize this is the first time in over 10 years that I have no musical “calendar” for the coming year. Scaling back on my musical group participation was deliberate, a way to give myself more flexibility and time to concentrate on other activities. But now I feel pressure to use that time productively, and I’m not quite sure how to do that, or if I’m up to the task. And I’ll admit there’s a certain sadness that comes with the loss of that venue of self expression. There’s also a void in my social life at the moment, since the majority of my friendships revolve around musical activities.
All told, I suppose it’s no surprise that I’m a bit like a lost lamb these days.
Wish me luck as I work my way back to the flock.