We go away for a few days and I long to be better, at least more energetic.
The Boy asks to spend time on the beach and I take a pass. It isn't like me to miss out on the water and sand. But rest is what I know my body needs most.
I see the sunshine through the trees and it calls me. I'm freezing yet I do not have the energy to move.
Whatever virus I have will soon pass. I'll be back to running in no time and my strength will return.
For now, this sickness keeps me grounded and noticing things.
...like the sunshine and how it shows up through the trees.
...and the laughter of The Boy. And how he worries for his Momma without having that worried look, but rather his incessant asking if I'll do something with him, as a pulse-taking exercise of sorts.
Beyond my sight there's purpose in this slowing down. It's to heal and recover. But it's also so much more than that, I know it.
"Write for five, short, bold beautiful minutes...
Unscripted and unedited...
Without worrying if it's just right or not."