But last week I’d done all I could do. I’ve been writing and reading and writing more since January. I have dug up little pieces of time between mothering two little kids getting up early, staying up late, and hiring several babysitters each week to grant me uninterrupted thinking and writing time.
A class ended last Monday. I was a little sad, to be honest. The group was incredible. Great writing. Great discussion and conversation. It was a safe place to explore our stories through writing with the added safety of structure, grammar and word choice being a haven from diving too deep into murky emotions.
I was also relieved when the class ended. I felt myself collapse into a mental exhaustion. I couldn’t bear to write anything. I couldn’t even bear to respond to emails and messages from friends. I was out of words. Empty. So, despite the large stack of reading assignments I have for a workshop coming up in three weeks I decided to take a week off.
No words. No babysitting. I spent much-needed time with my kids. We splashed in the wading pool. We went on walks. We looked for bugs and jumped on the trampoline. Late in the week we went on a four-day vacation as a family of four. We rode tricycles, swam, hiked, colored, read books, played we were trolls on the playground and took long naps. We slowed down. We did what we wanted to do, not what we had to do. By the end of the week I even found myself wanting to read – for fun.
Today, I am refreshed. I am ready to hit the next month of writing and reading. I am recharged.