Guess not ...

The parting thought in my last post was a question. Could I, once back from the Ansel Adams trip, keep my balance, keep from being consumed by detail and demands? Well, I've been home almost a week and the answer seems to be no, a resounding no.

Truth is, it's been a wild week. My homecoming was sweet. Tal had home-grown roses waiting for me on the bedside table and I was delighted by a huge bowl of gardenias on the desk in my study when I wandered in there the next morning. I think he missed me!

The mail was a mountain and, in good spirits, we shredded most of it. That first day home, Wednesday, held a number of appointments and ended with pre-wedding meeting with the bride and groom-elect, her mother and the wedding starter at the church. And, Thursday I enjoyed meeting with my clergy colleague group, along with some follow up on the trip -- an evaluation and notes to various presenters. There for a couple of days I felt some hope that the rehabilitation had taken!

Pretty much after that, though, it was the slippery slope of a weekend wedding which claimed my time. While the wedding took the best of me, it was a marvelous occasion. Followed by a regular Sunday morning with confirmation class and worship and an afternoon convocation meeting 50 miles away and minutes to write and the Ridge Runner to get to the printer and Bible study to get ready for. And the house to clean, laundry to do, groceries to buy and meals to prepare. The ironing's still in the basket.

It's regular life, I know, but I end up lost, the word I used before feels accurate: consumed. What about possessed? While I realize that being finished is an unrealistic goal, I also realize that I never feel as though I can stop. And, during periods of time like this past week, I get no exercise, meals are minimal, I get up too early and stay up too late. The camera and the lens are still apart, still in the camera case, just the way they travelled. Pitiful.

But, I'll keep trying. I refuse to believe that I must continue on this way, that I cannot choose otherwise. But, the choosing, the declining opportunitites, shall we say, takes courage. Which do I really want? To slog through the endless "to do" list, checking off items, many of which I have to force myself to care about, being nice and dependable? Or keep some of those items off the list in the first place?

Courage, girl, courage! But, right now ... enough. Time for sleep.