Thursday, June 18, 2009
It took just one cut into that fabric to begin breathing again. By that I mean, I could actually hear and feel the air moving in and around and about and out. For the first time in many weeks, I wasn’t running on adrenaline. When I spoke there wasn’t the shrill edge to my voice that maybe only I can hear. I didn’t notice that tight lump of stress in my throat. I wasn’t thinking ahead to the next task. There was a mini revelation.
Sometimes friends who have fewer than three children say ‘I don’t know how you do it’. Usually my response is somewhere along the lines of ‘Well, you should see the state of my house’. Secretly, I have worked on the theory that I can adjust to more kids, more work, more friends, more everything. Sure it’s tricky at first but then I’ll make it work. To me there aren’t any real limits – only less sleep, less rest, less play, less time to listen to breathing. Usually it’s the day to day housework and washing that falls by the wayside. Lately there has been a higher price.
Although I have skirted around the edges of this revelation and seen it in a squinty, peripheral, distracted, outer body sort of way, I hadn’t felt it in the middle of my chest or pit of my stomach until last night. Working with the fabric allowed me some time and space to forget the running order of the day and somewhere in there, a whopping serve of clarity hit me between the eyeballs. It seems there’s a tipping point. Here I am, teetering right on the very precipice of a pyramid of priorities. I can just make out from way up high that the ones furthest down are some of those I hold dearest.