The week after

This week is always like limbo land. Easter Day is nuts. It's exciting and nerve wracking and wild and over the top. The lead up to it is exhausting in other ways, but the final result of the whole kit and kaboodle is a pretty verticle trajectory. Which leaves me screaching into the heavens and slowly slowing down as the gravity of physical limits and emotional burn out assert their inexorable pull. Now I'm beginning to pick up speed again, down toward the thicker regions of the atmosphere of my life.

This year it seems I'm rather healthy, knock on wood. I usually am able to run myself into the ground and pick up some disease. This year I'm back at work and I just wobble now and then.

I wonder what the aftermath of the whole thing must have done to the bunch back then. Miracles are one thing, stress induced pooped-ness is another. And they had plenty of stress. Maybe I'm getting older and wiser. The older part is obvious. The wiser part is dubious. But I do feel more grateful for the entire experience. Gratitude does not preclude fatigue, but it does allow us to appreciate the moment. As a result that moment is a gift, a pleasure.

This is a week to feel a bit of low pressure between the ears, not quite a vacuum, but low pressure. And it's tinged with a glow. That's not limbo, that's a place of life, and life abundant.
I think I'll take a nap.