My apron strings are usually not so subversive these days. I work. I have some friends to enjoy Friday evenings and weekends with- usually go home early to keep my wallet intact/spend time with my wonderful husband.
Last weekend, we got out of the grooves of daily living for a couple days. Had the most glorious Saturday at a tiny burn on Mt. Tabor in VT on a private property complete with solar panels and everything. There were two ponds with connecting streams, a zip line and lovely gardens. The gentleman hosting opened his home to us all.
Of course this was going to end with me going to the hospital after a 30 foot fall, right? I haven't had any mishaps for a record of approximately three years, so of course I am due for a dramatic drop from the zipline BEFORE I was over the water, which scared the living Christ out of my poor doting hus.
That sweet man. But I will admit- the benefits of him thinking I was dead for a solid 10 seconds are pretty nice. I feel bad saying so, but ...it is the truth. I didn't mean to! I can't help it if there are unintended benefits!
In my defense, I scared myself pretty badly as well, if you can imagine. If I had died, my last thought would have been incredible mundane for someone who is as fond of words as I. Pretty sure it was a four-letter word of some kind. (Sorry, Mom!) And then there was dealing with the thought that I didn't know if I was paralyzed or what would be found when I got to the hospital.
Now, it could be the meds, but I am pretty sure I am experiencing some post-traumatic growth over here. Our house just burnt down about three months ago and now I almost died (don't worry a third bad thing already happened- the triumvirate is over!) and I feel incredibly calm.
So many people have come to my rescue in so many ways- yes, over the years, but *especially* this year, that there is no way to be but humbled. I have struggled to believe the generosity that has been expressed, the lengths people have taken to support Husband and me. There is so much gratitude to be felt, the anger and frustration about the injustices of daily modern life all feel so inconsequential.
Please do not misunderstand. Not the injustices themselves (the actual injustices, not the things that feel like injustices but are really first world problems waiting to be heard), but the anger and frustration I associate with thinking about those injustices. The anger doesn't dominate the thought process. It's nice.
It is amazing. I feel so free. Unencumbered while thinking. Or at least trying to think.
Thanks, world. <3 br="">3>