So, How's it Going?

 

Pretty good, I must admit. My last vacation was a nightmare of depressed solitude and body odor. I was determined not to let that happen again. I started the week with a whole list of housekeeping chores I wanted to accomplish, but on Monday night, my shrink suggested a different tactic.

"Dose are tings you should do. Vat do you VANT to do?" He doesn't really talk like that, but he's Dutch and has a hint of an accent that could be Freudian if you squint just a little.

So I spent the week asking myself vat I vanted to do each day. First of all, I got out and moved. Walked around the neighborhood. Went to the Y and hit the heavy bag or took a class. Had a dip in the pool. I went to the theatre with a friend, and had a 3 mile(!) run with another. Mustered the nerve to ask a pretty girl out without falling in love or getting all weird about it, which is tremendous progress for my dopey old heart. And I read a wonderful book that reminded me just how much I love doing that, and how much better my writing would be if I read more. And in between, I managed to put a respectable dent in my list of chores.

After a false start in July, I had a lovely staycation in August. I think it's just what I needed. I've been limping along grieving my Mum's death, and the miles between my sisters and me, and lost loves, and my divorce, and the State of the World, and god knows what else for so long. I don't imagine all those things are gone for good, but I do have a sense that I'm learning to untether them from my little boat as I continue my voyage downstream. They will show up from time to time. I will always love the ones who are gone. I just don't have to prove it by towing them along everywhere I go. 

So, how's it going? Not really sure. I can't tell how deep the river is where I am, or what might be around the bend, but from where I'm sailing, if feels like healing is happening.

It feels like living is happening.

And that is definitely zumtink dat i vant to do.