|You wish you had a sweater that fly.|
There's literal toil, of course. I've written much about my job, and more than I write about it, I think about it, feel my way through it, and keep on doing it. I love it, I'm grateful for it, and I hope to get better and better at it as I go. That takes a mighty bite out of me some days though.
I haven't been writing as much as I want, as I said, but I did make it through Nanowrimo with a few days to spare. That was mostly due to the fact that Husband was willing to drive me around with my iPad in my lap while we ran errands. Someday I might actually open the novel file again and actually see what I wrote, but that day is likely a long, long time away.
I've also been working more on myself--including going to the gym. If you know me, you know this is as pleasant to me as a cow wandering into a butcher shop and volunteering to become a big pile of steaks. I've been incredibly grateful for the support of fitter-than-me friends who reassure me that exercise didn't kill them, and most likely won't kill me. I mostly believe it. Mostly.
Those things have eaten up my time, but there's more to what has eaten up my mind. There are a lot of heavy things dragging on my heart these days. Loss, and the shadow of it on the horizon, hovers. Wherever life is involved, it has always been there, and always will be. When the time comes that it commands our attention, there's no avoiding it.
Today, my Monday is feeling heavy, and that's the inspiration for it: the heavy days, as much as our light and joyful ones, are just as worthy of our notice. It is part of the road we all travel, and wherever your feet may fall on the journey, there's still much to teach and to learn, gratitude and goodness to share, and strength we don't yet know we have.