It’s been a good week.
Nothing spectacular. No prizes, no surprises, no miracles. But I caught up. I suspect you know what I mean. For years it seems I lived my life hurrying, grabbing metaphorical clothes from metaphorical racks, putting on my shoes as I ran, brushing my hair in a metaphorical car.
The feeling didn’t leave me when I retired. Not right away. But, I had 57 years of catching up to do.
Here are some small unremarkables from this week. I weeded, relocated a few plants, and watered everybody who needs it – by hand. I signed the contract for our roof replacement, confirmed that the painter will finally come finish the front door, and vacuumed the bedroom floor.
I made Korean braised short ribs, combining three recipes to make one of my own. I emailed my brother with some thoughts. I stood on a muscle roller as on more step towards resolving a very old ankle and foot injury.
It is so easy to rush through life accumulating injury.
Maybe it’s easier to wind up almost 60, in a hole, if you’re competent. Oh, probably not. Probably it’s always better to be competent. But sometimes for some people this costs. Many heroic gestures come out of our own hides.
The garden did me a real favor this week. It went dormant. Really, very little is growing. The white roses might be browning, the camellias starting to form small buds, but they’re alone in their enthusiasm. That gave me time for luxuries, to finally move the two hellebores that were lonely and dying under the oak. To fertilize the magnolia tree with a watering can.
My brother and I were talking about peak experiences, last week, or maybe the week before. This week I stood out in my back yard with the hose, my thumb over the opening, arcing the water in large shining drops up and over some greenery. Washing dusty leaves. The sun shone through the hose spray like wizard crystals.
I am not exaggerating.
I am pretty sure that standing on the roller feeling my feet hurt was the most important of all. Catching up means you have to put down all the stuff you grabbed while hurrying. And when you put it down, you might notice rips and tears. This applies to relationships as well. But you knew that.
It’s a pity that life doesn’t behave like a garden. That our jobs don’t go dormant. Or our marriages, for that matter. Certainly our bills don’t. Sometimes I am sad that I am too old now to hurry well and sometimes I want to fall to my knees and say thank you.
Have a wonderful weekend.