Maybe I'm storing up energy for what's to come. Or perhaps I'm just plain tired. All I've wanted to do lately is fix myself a big cup of herbal tea after my classes at the college and melt into my bathtub with a good book. I've wanted to do simple things like cook a meal for my husband or gather all the loose paper clips from the bottom of my book bag and organize them into one location (trust me, this is not like me). Sometimes I just stand and stare out my office window at a bird and sometimes I sit at my desk and do absolutely nothing.
I wanted to do a vlog today, but my current "hermit mode" status won't allow it. I'm surprised I was able to bring my fingers to the keyboard today and type this post for week six. But I think it is important to share. Maybe other writers or even non-writers can relate. Do you ever feel just plain tired of being connected? Connected to the internet, connected to your job, connected to all your responsibilities—have you ever just wanted to step away from it all? I haven't wanted to go on Facebook and have even found it difficult to check e-mail. I even entertained the idea of a new blog: 365 days of Cave Living. I'd go out and live in a cave in silence and pen my blog posts out on paper to later be typed onto my cave-dweller's blog by someone else, because I'm not allowed to use electronics so long as I'm a cave dweller. I'd meditate, chase butterflies, live off the land, wake up at sunrise and go to sleep at sunset.
For now, I think I can live with the near-silence of my office. I'm warming up again to the sound of my fingers punching out the keys on my keyboard. I'll settle for the cup of tea next to me and the long weekend ahead with no classes. I'm grateful for this time to soak in all that's around me. I've forgotten what it feels like to do next to nothing. I've done all that I can do. I've laid down the foundations, I've written the book and it's gone to print. It will be coming soon!
While in "hermit mode," I noticed that the daffodils in my garden are starting to poke through the dried out leaves that fell from my camellia tree last fall. I can almost smell them, but I can't force them to bloom. I'll just have to wait. And I'm perfectly fine with that.