Life has been higgledy piggledy of late, there has been much to achieve in a short space of time, and seemingly not enough hours in the day to achieve it in.
There have been briefs to meet, deadlines to make, emails to send, and this is as well as all the day to day stuff that tumbles together to make a family life.
I know I have neglected my blog, I have had the briefest of moments to hop onto Facebook and Twitter to share little snippets of where I'm at. Bedtime has become a gleaming jewel on a faraway horizon most days, and I'm glad to tumble into it's warm folds and read novels about moving to France before drifting into a deep slumber, woven with strange and telling dreams.
In the midst of all these things, we have had a new front roof put on, our old one having become something akin to a colander. The rains from the last couple of years had proved too much for this 130 year old house to bear any longer. Balloons of water in the bedroom ceiling meant that the Urgent Big Expensive Job needed to be attended to, before we woke up in a cold and unpleasant puddle one day.
This was not without it's hiccups. A letter plopped onto the door mat to tell us that we had not applied for permission for this new roof, that certain applications needed to be made. Oh what a letter, and crappity crap I thought as my heart began to race in slight panic at being in Serious Trouble.
Quite a few phone calls later, and a new friend in the council offices was made, all was solved, the drama was over but oh boy, did I feel drained after all that.
Do you ever reach the stage where you know that you are doing too much, moving too fast, and the warning signs of a burnout are fast approaching?
The first of these warning signs came in the form of an unpleasant virus which laid me low for a few days and needed a course of antibiotics to shift. As I sat doing my accounts and feeling utterly lousy, I realised that I was fast heading out of balance, that it was my body's way of telling me to slow down, calm down and breathe.
So, I find myself back in this space again, of starting from the beginning again. A time of gentleness, early nights and healthy food, fresh water and green tea, deep lavender and orange blossom baths, crocheting on the sofa, reading a book in the sun.
I plan my work load for the next few weeks to make it feel easier, I say No to things that aren't achievable or which feel like too much. I sort out what my priorities are and make a list. Lists are good. What happened to my lists? I seemed to have stopped making them, no wonder life was messy and tiring.
I wander in the garden, slowly pottering, pulling up weeds, watching the river ripple and bubble along the stones past yellow iris and wild flowers. I see and hear small birds and look for flowers to put into a jam jar by my bed. I see the sunlight, playing light and shadow on the blue shed. I feel that calm stillness returning.
Sometimes, we just need to stop and make time for the bits in between, the bits we miss out or forget to do in the tangled, busy, messy lives we lead. These bits in between, they're not expensive or overly glorious, but they sing to a tired soul and heal the sore parts. They revive our spirits and help us gently back onto our path.
I'm feeling better from writing this, from being able to ask people for more time, for people being kind enough to say YES to those requests. I'm feeling better for saying NO to some things, for making a space in my days for myself. I feel better for asking for support, instead of believing I have to do everything by myself. I don't. I'd forgotten that.
What are your bits in between, the bits that make you glow, feel grounded and happy? What are the bits in between that help you to come home to yourself?
A selection of my work is now available as prints at The Whistlefish Galleries