The days float by. I keep reminding myself that my job right now is to rest and heal, but sometimes impatience grabs me and I want to shift gears, want to be done with this illness and get back into life. “Life”. But what is it, really, the life I sometimes itch to return to? I have all I need right here. I have my children and my home, I have nature and books and music and friends and space to just be. This itch, I think, is a remnant of the old days, where I classified my worth after how much productivity I could attain. No more of that. This healing journey is more than just physical.

So I am here, in my space of healing, constantly reminding myself that there is no rush, because there is nothing worth rushing towards. There is this road and I am walking it, just like everyone else are walking their roads, and I am right where I need to be. I can’t rush my healing. I am doing what I can.

So the days float by, and they are full of play, and knitting, and dancing, and reading, and all the other things that make up the everyday life of this family. The days are shorter all the time, and our fields are full of mist, and we are moving into the darkest time of year. All the more important then, to be good to ourselves, to wrap eachother in snuggles and just make the best of it.