The book I'm reading (and loving, because of course, Ann Patchett) right now.
Hello! Hello!
Even I am dubious about the use of two exclamation marks in my greeting, but the once-again-prolonged absence from this blog justifies it, I think. It has been a long few weeks, friends. I got hit hard by Covid on the 5th of November (I'll never forget how quickly those two lines appeared on the RAT test), and spent a week in bed and away from school, only, to my eternal frustration, not to be back to normal some three weeks later. Imagine! After that abundance of rest!
I had Covid and then after five days largely spent in bed, I moved house. My friends were unbelievably generous with their time and support (S singlehandedly built my new bed for me; R,V and A ensured I barely lifted a single piece of my own furniture), which made the whole process much less stressful than it could have been. I moved and cleaned and then went straight back to school for a week in which I experienced four of the most complex behavioural/learning/disciplinary cases I have encountered all year.
Then, S and I spent a weekend together in Ahipara - a delightful excursion but one which involved three cancelled flights and a 5:30am bus ride back to Auckland - and I went back for another full week at school. This time, the week culminated in a teacher-only day in which I found out that the big change I had mentally adjusted to was not going ahead, but that another entirely-unforeseen possibility for next year was on the table.
Just typing all of this out makes me forgive myself for my tiredness. My head has been foggy and my limbs achey for three weeks now. And yet, I have plodded on; I'm sleepily proud of myself for doing so.
How is my new place, you inquire? Lovely. It is bright and airy and my room gets the afternoon sun. When I get home from school, I curl up in my armchair or on my bed and delight in the warmth and the light. I have gotten into the routine of going on a daily jaunt to Monte Cecilia park, whose trees and birds and dogs never fail to awaken delight, even on the greyest of days. My settled afternoon/evening ritual gives me hope that I can get into good rhythms here, that I can embed habits that allow me to be fully myself.
The end of the year is hurtling toward me with the kind of train-efficiency we don't have in Auckland, and I'm not sure I'm entirely prepared for it. But, like it or not, the whooshing sound nears and I must be ready to meet it in its fullness.
I went on a teary walk around the park yesterday, after dropping S off at the airport ahead of her move to Wellington. The end of the year has brought big changes and challenges and I'm not sure I have or will cope with them with the grace that I would like. As I cried, I was gently reminded of the ways in which I've grown this year, and that all of those daily tasks - at home, at school, with friends - add up to something, however small. I'm speaking quietly to the Lord about it and seeking to see things rightly.
I don't have the time to share in detail what I'm engaging with this week, but I hope to be back next week with something akin to a normal Saturday post. Hope it's a nourishing week ahead, friends. x
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