I Need To Move It, Move It

I’ve grown roots on my favorite writing chair for the last several days. That is a blessing and a curse.

While I am very pleased with the amount and quality of work I have done over that time, I am getting itchy to be outside. When I am in “the writing zone”, I often forget to even look up from MacDaddy’s screen much less move around. When I am eventually forced to get out of the chair (after Madame Bladder gives me an ultimatum I cannot refuse), my lower back screams out in pain, saying, “Maybe you should take stretch breaks every hour or two, you dolt!” The more I disregard my need to move, the more my body complains about it.

This morning I woke up extra early to get in a long yoga practice before the day began. It was glorious. I loved getting the nighttime crunchies out, and I savored the peaceful silence before the house buzz got turned up. My mind was clear, my body was feeling better, and I was connected to Spirit. I thought, “I’m gonna have a wonderful, productive day!”

Then Emma shuffled into the room, sniffling.

When one’s child is sick, all plans get thrown out the window. After realizing that my daughter needed to stay home with me, I immediately started juggling my schedule around, postponing heavy-duty writing for another time and putting in more mindless chores in its place. (Even when Em is under the weather, she still is Human Velcro to her mother, thus virtually eliminating all possibility for completing work requiring concentration.) After quietly whining about my change in plans, I realized how I can still have a wonderful, productive day: I can spend it with my daughter.

Right now she is finishing her letter to Santa (she has asked for a long bathrobe, flowy dress, and the WALL-E DVD, thankfully a pretty easy order for Ol’ Saint Nick). When she’s done, we are going to go to the post office so she can mail her letter and I can mail my audiobook master CDs to the manufacturing company. Once we return and the weather is a bit warmer, we’re gonna go for a nice nature walk around Bird Island. The crisp air in our lungs, the sunshine on our faces, the sounds of chirping birds in our ears, and the soft earth under our feet will do us both some good.

We all get exactly what we need.