Observations

Maybe I pushed it too hard yesterday by sitting at the computer doing work for an hour and then going to a casual dialogue meeting for two hours, but by the evening, I was done in. It's so interesting to be observing myself, which I seem to have to do as I observe my body movements so as to not upset the delicate balance of grace I appear to be hovering within--I see myself move, and think and talk. I note when my mood shifts. Last night I could not get comfortable in on the couch so I got ready for bed earlier and did my word puzzle. Then, after yet another bleak news summary, I switched to watching a Star Trek rerun and I could feel my tense body relax. The characters of that series, the cycle with Patrick Stewart at Capt. Pickard, is so reassuringly adult and intelligent. Contrast their scripts with what is most common today--all the sitcoms seem to be following the movie "Hangover" with lewd language, adult males acting like adolescents and women either following with the same behavior or putting up with/settling for emotionally empty relationships.

But, on "Star Trek", we had adults working out their relationships and challenges with thoughtfulness, slowed reactions and creativity. Watching it, relaxed me to a pretty good sleep, tho I woke up too early today with the sounds of the birds. I had a dream about my boot coming off and I could walk again. And I was grumpy when wakeful reality set in and there is was, my daily anchor. First thing I have to do I slowly raise it up and begin to slowly stretch out my knee and thigh so I can "carry the load" out of bed. So I stretch, do my morning affirmations which didn't sink in much today because, once I dropped myself into a chair, I began to bark at Mark for breakfast.

I get so depleted between meals. I need protein to shift from idle to first gear and it's almost a desperate need. Then, as I feel nourishment cascade through my cells, my mind begins to open to the sounds of the day and I shift into thinking about what comes next--what to wear that will fit over my boot and be cool enough to be comfortable on a 95 degree day, how to move when I dress, brush my teeth, comb my hair. What I need to get "settled" so I can work and write (my first phase, not the serious work writing I will do later which needs more mental acuity than I have at 8 a.m.). Everything is slowed down and observed.

So here I am, with Lia (my dog) on the couch next to mine, table top full of books, granola, juice, laptop, tv remotes, journal and reflective literature, newspaper and magazines, pillows and ice on or under my leg--the acoutremonts (sp?) of my recovery life.