on regaining balance

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This is our booth before the show opened. You have no idea how tempted I was just to obnoxiously caption this, “I’M COMIN’ OUT OF DA BOOTH!”

I’m back from Chicago, and oh, sweethearts, am I tired.

I’ll be honest, Chicago may not have been the best idea I ever had. Or maybe it was, I’m not sure. In all honesty: I had a fantastic time. I saw people I needed to see, people who filled my heart up, refreshed me, re- started me from the inside out. I spent time with the folks who remind me why I do what I do, and brought me back to some of my basics: this is what I’m all about.

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I got to hug the one, the only Squïd Tiberiüs Widgët!! YOU HAVE NO IDEA.

Okay, but also: I don’t know if I have all of my physical reserves, these days, so there’s that, too. This whole Copaxone- to- Gilenya transfer isn’t complete yet, and by Sunday I was running on empty. Hell, by Saturday I was running on empty, really. I was a zombie for the ride home, and I’m writing this from bed as I take a true recovery day.

Tomorrow, I hop in my gloriously tiny car and head north to do a trunk show at the amazing  Village Knitter in Long Island (I have waited so long to go here, I’m very excited), and then I’m off to Hartford for a few days, then onward to New Hampshire to take Kiddo to college. I’ll be gone from home for yet another week- My Life On The Road, I guess. More and more, it’s as though my home is the hotel.

I like this frantic traveling life most days, but this schedule has been a bit much. I knew it would be hectic in August- I’ve had my calendar in front of me for months now, shaking my head every time I looked at this month- but the reality of it is more than a little daunting, and I don’t even want to talk about what October is going to be like (but I’m going to, anyway): trunk show up north, wedding up north, Rhinebeck, trunk show up north. There isn’t a single weekend I’ll be in Baltimore.

I do this to myself, of course. And I love the work, so am I actually complaining? Not exactly. I’m more trying to muddle out a way to make this more enjoyable. So here’s the thing— I love love love the work, the part where I’m meeting with people, whether it’s the trunk shows themselves or the actual meetings, or just meeting up with my friends and colleagues, wherever I’ve landed. And let’s be real about this: I love moving about, traveling, sleeping in strange places. That’s always been my schtick. I am not a homebody. I’m a living- out- of- a- bag sort of girl.

It’s the physicality of the thing that’s roughing me up right now. I need to do some things, and I’m just plain not doing them. Why am I skipping out on them? WHO KNOWS. Possibly just a serious case of Stupiditis, but I’m guessing it’s more a mixture of laziness, a latent belief I’m still invincible, and an overall desire to believe that if I just go along doing things the way I always have that everything will be fine in the end. Silly.

So: mid- year resolutions.

  • Go to bed at a reasonable time, jerkface. Reasonable bedtimes are defined as before 10:30p.
  • Eat more food, even when you feel nauseous. The meds just make you feel gross, they don’t make you actually throw up, so stop worrying about it and eat through the queasy days.
  • Also eat more diversely: a woman cannot live on fruit, coffee, Snickers bars and steak alone. EAT BREAKFAST.
  • Yoga. Bring a mat and use it. Don’t let one sad and wretched person stop you from taking care of your body. Those long drives crunch up muscles- they need stretching!
  • Daily meditation- let’s get back into a damn schedule, already. This catch- as- catch- can thing is not working out.
  • Write. Every. Day.

It’s a good starting point, at least, especially when on the road. I’m tempted to add more, but let’s just start here.

I have more in my head- there’s something kicking around, but it’s still a Think Being Thunk—- not quite finished yet. I left Chicago with a few things to mull over, actually, and was very grateful for the long drive home to chew them over. It’s been a busy year for major overhauls in thinking, actually. What’s that all about? I wish I were the sort of girl to lay it all on the positions of the stars, or something like that. Instead, I just get to say that 2013 has been a humdinger of a year, and it’s only barely half- done. Cripes.

I wish there were a weight systems for years. An app, maybe, or even just a webpage, although that seems a little outdated these days. You could type in major life events, serious internal revelations, that sorts of thing, and then hit Enter and see precisely: How Heavy Is My Year? You could compare them to years past, maybe even hypothetical years- dreamy years full of nothing but bliss, or horrific years you’d concocted just to make the year you’re in seem easier, I don’t know. An invention like this could be handy to put things like this into perspective. Someone tech- ier than me should get on this, right? It’d be pretty badass.

Oh, I’m fraying at the edges, it’s a fact, but it’ll all be okay. I have my knitting, I have a small flat and friends waiting for me in Long Island, and then, of course, Hartford, always my second home. I can never really express how tightly bound I am to that place. I’ll do my work, gently, and work on finding my balance again— again, and that’s really what’s tripping me up, and that’s the skill I have to master: I need to become an expert in finding my balance again, MS makes one need to become an expert in regaining one’s balance— and then I’ll rejoin my family, re- ground myself when we take Kiddo to college, which is its own entire thing.

College. I can’t even. That is also another post. Christ: that’s REAL. That’s NEXT WEEK. Oh, wow.

I’m tired, but happy, and a little confused as to how I’m going to fit all the good things I’ve got going on into my life, loves. It’s a good problem to have, and I’ve got it, and I’m trying to be grateful for it, even when it challenges me, because it’s always, always, always my goal to be a goddamned grateful girl: I know where I’ve come from, and I know what I’ve got, and I am so glad for every morsel. Thank you, world, for all of it- even when it exhausts me. I’ll figure this out, and I’ll figure this out in a way that doesn’t wear me down, too, because it’s no good to have all this goodness if you can’t be present in it and if you can’t be a part of it.

Be good, be happy, be healthy, all.

  One thought on “on regaining balance

  1. August 14, 2013 at 3:40 pm

    I love you.
    You are the best.
    The end.

    • August 14, 2013 at 4:00 pm

      I love YOU, Ms. Okey. You’re so wonderful, you don’t even KNOW.

  2. August 14, 2013 at 6:05 pm

    Are you doing something yarn-y in Hartford? That’s close enough for me to come see if you are!

    • August 14, 2013 at 7:38 pm

      Nothing yarny in Hartford this time- all my yarn business is in NY for this trip, I’m afraid! I still haven’t settled on my dream shop in the Hartford area yet.

  3. Kathleen
    August 20, 2013 at 11:15 am

    Thank you again for a wonderful time at our trunk show! If we can work it in next time–I would love for you to come to my yoga studio. I love my yoga instructor. She is incredible. I come out of there feeling unbelievable! I have learned so much there physically and mentally. She is wonderful. Good luck this week and with all the travelling. Take good care of yourself.

    • August 22, 2013 at 10:04 am

      Oh, that sounds like a wonderful idea. I always bring my mats with me and pretty much never use them- ridiculous, right? Next time, maybe? And it was so much fun to see you!!

  4. Kathleen
    August 20, 2013 at 11:16 am

    hmm…their. spell correctly next time Kathleen. 😉

  5. Melissa M.
    August 29, 2013 at 5:07 pm

    How lucky I am to have met you at the Textile Museum, given your rigorous schedule. You need to make up a tour shirt, for sure. Hope to knit together again soon!

  6. Jody
    September 24, 2013 at 4:12 pm

    Sarah-it was delightful to meet you at Stitches that Sunday, and I don’t think you seemed at all zombie-like. You were sweet and gracious and helpful. And you can’t really have a college age child, can you?

    • September 24, 2013 at 6:10 pm

      It was lovely to meet you, Jody! And I promise, that college- age child is all mine. If you saw her, there’d be no doubt— apparently, I create taller clones of myself. 🙂

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