It feels strange not to have to write every day. It was certainly a challenge to write something each day for Rocktober (though I did cheat once or twice by writing more than one installment on a single day). I enjoyed it but it did weigh on my mind and at times I would go blank, not being able think of a single song worth writing about. Other days I would be driving along (driving seems to be the time I am most able to think) when 10 great songs would pop into my mind.
This is the time of the year - late October/early November - when I feel like I'm being sucked into the path of an oncoming freight train. There is so much going on with school commitments (being a class mum I'm involved with the school fete and the year 6 farewell function plus there are the events which must be attended like Dance Fever and the school presentation day), work end of year stuff (like organising the Christmas party and ordering gifts for clients and staff), general kid stuff (like Marianna's dance concert which involves three rehearsals in three completely different parts of Sydney) plus assorted birthday parties, general social stuff like Christmas parties and other end of year catch ups and general social events which just happen to fall during this time of year. Don't get me wrong I love the social stuff and I love being busy but this is definitely what I call too much of a good thing. With so much going on I barely have time to draw a breath and I am always thinking about the next thing which means I am hardly ever "in the moment" enjoying the thing I'm doing right now.
It's all feast or famine in life, isn't it? When I visit my grandmother in Shady Pines I see all the very elderly folk who have nothing but time now. Their lack of physical health means they can no longer do the things they used to do so they fill up their days around the home playing cards, reading, chatting, sitting. To someone like me who is always rushing through, spending half an hour visiting before running off onto the next errand, this seems blissful. What I wouldn't do to have an hour to sit in their lovely garden with a book and a cup of tea. We each look at each other jealously in some ways, wishing for a little of what the other has.
I try, and generally fail, to each day appreciate and enjoy what I have and what I'm doing right now. My pace, and stage, of life means I hurtle through each day, manically getting my tasks done (mostly without any real joy, simply because there just isn't the time to enjoy any emotion except frustration because nothing is ever done fast enough) and the little spare time I have is usually spent daydreaming about my long lost (at the time not appreciated) youth or planning for some event in the future.
But when I do have a moment like this one, when the children and I have had a lovely morning with no-one yelling or complaining (it's still early though), the pre-work morning tasks are mostly done and I'm typing this while the kids get a short burst of The Goodies, I take a breath and think how very lucky I am at this moment... and I savour this beautiful funny feeling.