That’s where I am right now with my writing. The last two weeks have been ranked up there with nothing other than pure insanity. Paul and I both passing the children back and forth so that we can attend to professional responsibilities. We may share a few passing words about kid pick up in the morning and cap off the evening with a quick run down of tomorrow’s schedule, but there’s been very little beyond that. We’re in survival mode.
And then I think “I didn’t sign up for survival mode”. This isn’t what I wanted.
And so it goes from time to time. Our time to time has been the last 24 months as Paul worked on his Masters degree. And that’s a long time to time to sustain.
We’re coming up on the end. Three more weeks and the program will be over. We’ll be home celebrating Christmas on Bainbridge and there will just a vacuum left behind in our once completely, but necessarily overcommitted lives.
And we need to consider what it is that we are going to fill our lives back up with because certainly, without intention, something will inevitably take that space.
There’s the big dreams of Airstream trailers and camping by the sea. The bonfires and cozy evenings with mugs of warm cider. Reading by the fireplace.
But that’s not reality for us most of the time.
Our reality is loud Yahtzee games, family swims, a trip or two to sightsee all the local Mumbai places we have yet to brave. It’s a quick stop at Starbucks and pasta dinners on Sundays.
It’s not Instagram worthy, but it is the balm for our weary souls. The ones who want to crawl under the covers and watch the children raise themselves on breakfast crumbs and iPads. We need it. We need this vacuum of time.
Whatever it is. However it looks. We need more of it.