Precipice

Over the past couple of days I have been going through my inbox, deleting some of the +7000 emails that have been living in there.  I would watch the number count grow and think to myself that I really needed to deal with it because a lot of them are 'spam' or lists I'm subscribed to.  Some of them I want to stay subscribed to, many I need to unsub from.  But with all the stress of the past two + years, I just hadn't been able to work up the energy.  Reviewing these emails reminds me of what I was dealing with two years ago and puts things into perspective.

I leave tomorrow for San Jose and one final meeting with my editor, after which it will - hopefully - be all steam ahead.  The week between getting home from Calgary and leaving on this trip was mostly playing catch up - on my bills, on my emails, on my sleep and energy. 

Once again I was reminded that my energy levels are not what they were even two years ago and I have to ration my activities in order to accomplish my goals.

This one, dear reader?   Has been a long time in coming.  I think I worked harder (physically - because 20 projects with before and after samples) on Magic in the Water.  But I was younger then by two decades and had not yet run into the physical ailments my body now deals with.

I have been having a bit of a struggle coming to grips with the new reality.  I keep remembering how much energy I used to have, and no longer can dredge up.  And I mourn.  And I wonder if this - this struggle to remain where I was 20 years ago - is what growing 'old' really means.  Or is it the acceptance of the new reality?  I really hope that wisdom makes the transition easier.

It took me two days to pretty much recover from doing Calgary and I honestly thought I would sail through getting the AVL set up and even have a chunk of that tea towel warp woven before I left.  Um, nope.

However it is threaded and sleyed and ready to tie on and weave as soon as I get home.  (She says, optimistically).

Why didn't I get further along?  Part of it was stress.  Anxiety.  Hope.  Battling impostor syndrome. 

Feeling like I was caught in limbo until this project - this latest Big Project - is completely done and launched into the world.  To sink.  Or swim. 

When I was younger and more driven by critical deadlines and had a lot more adrenaline to draw on, I would have set this project aside until my editor was done her part of the job and roared into the next critical deadline.

But there isn't a 'hard' deadline I need to deal with right now.  And I find myself with a decided lack of energy.  Or panic.

In some ways, I don't even mind.  I don't mind the lack of panic.  I don't mind the lack of frenzy, working on getting workshop handouts ready, yarn into the mail, magazine article deadline to meet.

I do mind not wanting to do much of anything.  But I also know that this is temporary.  That as soon as this project is launched there will be things that need doing.  And I will do them.

In the meantime I'm kind of enjoying (in a perverse way, given my lifetime of adrenaline induced panic) the quiet.

But I also see the light at the end of this particular tunnel.  And I am looking forward to stepping out of this tunnel and into the light.

And see what is next on this amazing, incredible journey.

Stay tuned for my Special Introductory Offer on The Intentional Weaver - as soon as I get home on Dec. 5.