There has been a paucity of posts of late, and today I was talking (complaining) to a friend about the fact that I don’t get time to myself. Time to write.
See the thing is I do get time to myself, I have moments in my day when I can sit and breathe, but I don’t have much energy any more. So tonight I find myself veging out (again) in front of the telly and I feel within the gentle nudge – the remembrance of my grumble and so here I am writing.
Why … because I need to – because I have been missing this part of me. Because this is the space that I carve out in my day for me, and no matter how tired and worn out I am, I have to remember to come back to this, to my sanity, to my peace, to the one piece of me that is hidden deep inside, that all the washing and cooking and cleaning and parenting that I do every day can’t touch.
I need to remember to nurture this hidden seed, water it, give it air and space – otherwise it will die, and so in a way will I.