Get Up and Go: Part 2

If you were to ask me how I've been this year, I would say GREAT. 

I would probably say that I have been seeking peace, finding quiet, and looking for balance.  

All of that is true, but it isn't a complete answer.  

Little by little -- then all at once -- I stopped doing the things that I normally do. The things I do that bring my joy and connection and service.

 I stopped bringing dinners to Veterans Village. 

 I stopped running. 

I stopped writing. 

I stopped painting. 

 I stopped researching in digital archives and instead watched all 6 seasons of Downton Abby in a week, the followed it up with a binge of 5 seasons of Working Moms.  Same with Schitt's Creek, the Morning Show, Ted Lasso, Kim's Convenience and WandaVision. 

I sat on my deck for hours and fed bluejays peanuts while building a strong relationship with a particularly bold cardinal that would come look in the window and wave around for me if I hadn't gone outside to bring their food yet. 

On the inside I was having a blast, on the outside I probably came across as aloof, withdrawn, impossible to get a hold of. 

I  did what I wanted and needed to do to get on with life -- cleaned out my closet, redid my room and emptied most of the garage.  Besides that I couldn't make myself do the small things that shouldn't be a big deal.  Returning  phone calls, running errands, planning anything for the future just seemed too hard, too steep to face. So instead of pushing myself I just sat quietly until quiet became my new norm.  

The best way to describe my motivation is with a  bumper sticker I saw on an old truck in the 1970s warning drivers behind it "My get up and go got up and went."