Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Staying sane and how to do it
In some ways, I am a machine. I have formidable organizational skills, can fry the bacon up in the pan, balance a seizing teenager, a growing almost-teen and a nine year old thumb-sucker with a fair amount of agility and copious amounts of love. Right now, on the day before the start of the school season for my two sons, I hardly have time to do this post, but I AM doing it. I'm posting because I love the postcard that my good friend Moye sent me that I scanned and posted above. It's ridiculous how much I have to do -- the paying of bills and not paying of bills, the juggling around of limited funds, the thank-you notes for birthday presents, the filling out of school forms, the registering of Sophie in a new school that I'd forgotten about until now, when it's only a week until school, the bloodwork I have to get done before the start of my fellowship
(My fellowship? Yes, I got a fellowship -- quite an honor and something that I'm very excited about, but I don't have time to tell you about it until I go to the orientation on the 15th), the calls I have to make to all the other board members of the Epilepsy Foundation of Greater Los Angeles to encourage them to start participating in our big walk/fundraiser in October, the reviewing of a document for an incredible organization devoted to helping foster care children and for whom I am dying to work part time, the Room Parent Manual that I need to write as Head Room Parent of my boys' school, the music therapy fundraiser this month where I'm reading an essay, the Cub Scout meeting this Friday where I'm doing a presentation on the Epilepsy Walk, the scouts' fall service project, my writing that is at once explosive and languishes on the side --
Like it says: Greetings from the Edge of Reason.
Did I mention that I have to, I just have to figure out a time to exercise and do yoga? It's gotten obscene how long it's been...
With all of this to do and think about, though, do you know what pulls me back from the edge? Moments when I become mindful of what I truly love.
A poem by Seamus Heaney, read by the poet himself.
I can listen to that, those words, that voice, those thoughts and images and the edge or reason is just that -- an edge, only an edge. There's an expanse beyond reason where I abide.