Tuesday, May 8, 2018

Rest And Recovery Day Two - My Mini Metamorphosis

Yesterday, during day one of Rest and Recovery, I managed to get a bunch of desk work caught up with. I alternated between my desk and the sofa. I dozed off a couple of times. The kids snuggled with me on the sofa. Lisa did all of the prep work and cooked meals for our kids. For our dinner, she made chicken patty sandwiches and cracked pepper and sea salt potato tots. I still can't smell or taste most stuff. I slathered my chicken sandwich with the homemade mango hot sauce that J and E gave me as a gift on Saturday. So. Delicious.

Today, I felt a little better than yesterday. I took the time to whip up a homemade pizza crust to make pizza for dinner. It requires minimal effort. It's the least I could do. Lisa has been working double duty between work and tending to stuff at home. In addition, she has a bit of a cough that she's blaming on allergies.

That's where I was a week ago. Blaming allergies.

The antibiotic is working. I stopped taking the DayQuil and Sudafed because it made my chest feel heavy and my head feels like a beach ball that was ready to explode. In order to heal, I need to get all the sludge up and out. Lots of coughing and blowing my nose. The pain sucks, but it's for the best. I can tell that laryngitis is setting in. No big surprise. That's what happened last year in January, March, and September when Lisa and I were hit with what I have now.

Aside from all of that...

I have taken a lot of time to just sit. Exist. Be in the moment. Think. Most of my desk work is caught up with. I have a few big projects to tackle, but I can't do that now.

Right now, all I have is time. Again, to sit, think, and reflect.

It's awkward. Uncomfortable. But. Necessary.

I don't like how I feel right now. At certain intervals throughout the day, I came very close to defying Lisa's orders and wishes. Working distracts me.

I think this is why I became a workaholic in my early 20's. 

But, I didn't cave. The paint cans and supplies sat on the table, untouched. I finished desk work either at my desk or on the sofa. I did a lot of thinking. I laughed. I cried. I got angry. I kicked myself in the ass for being stupid again. I asked myself the toughest of questions and then had to go face to face with the answers.

The answers were quite simple. The lessons learned from the mistakes I have made, once again, was pretty much obvious. The wisdom that surfaced came from our many elders over the years. The ones who raised us. Guided us. Lisa and I have both gone to them with issues here and there.

They listen. They read. They absorb. They dole out a sentence or two of guidance. That is all. Because wisdom doesn't come from taking the easy way out or someone pointing you in the right direction every time you hit an obstacle. And it certainly doesn't happen when things are continuously handed to you on a silver platter.

Wisdom and strength derive from surviving the stampede and the storm. That's where I am now. The storm is the chaos around me. Surviving is going to be the process of getting my shit together. That's no easy feat.

Getting your shit together is one of the hardest and bravest things you can do. The hard part is barraging yourself with the tough questions.

"Why is my shit not together?"

"Why do I feel stuck?"

"Why have I not reached certain goals yet?"

"Why am I allowing so much bother me?"

"Why am I not able to let this go or that go?"

"Why am I biting my tongue all the time?"

The brave part is answering them honestly. That means not making excuses or coming up with answers that rest in the zone of comfortability.

I've already gone face to face with some of these questions.

More have come up.

I'm actually quite amazed at the amount of thinking I can get accomplished when I'm too sick to do much of anything.

Or when I purposely distract myself.

I'm guessing that I'll have most of it figured out by the time I'm well enough to get back into the swing of things.

It'll be like going to through a metamorphosis of sorts.

I'll be refreshed. New perspective. New outlook. A strengthened sense of determination.

*raises my bottle of Powerade*

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