It’s not my water.

Well, this is ridiculous.  Where did ten days go since my last post?  I’m not even posting enough for the Post-A-Week project, let along Post-A-Day.   The past few weeks have sucked the juice right out of me. I have written articles, I have graded work, I have read books for the class I started today,  I have had major job alterations, I have driven from Vermont to upstate New York to Maryland and to Ohio without anyone to spell me, I have single parented, I have worried about my parents, my kids, my pets, snakes, wasps, my out-of-shape body, my house in Ohio and my house in Vermont.  It’s as if every time I open my purse frogs jump out.

I keep worrying about how to get everything done that I tell myself I should do. I so much want the people in my life to be healthy and happy.  There are some things I want to let go of, things that just aren’t my water (that’s what the folks in my Peace Corps village in Niger said when something wasn’t their concern or business). I’m not sure what these things are yet, but today,  I feel like there is a little more space opening up in my life, and it’s going to present itself in a whole new way, and it’s time to shed some of the heaviness I’ve been carrying – the physical, the mental and the emotional.

I didn’t think I’d be happy to be away from Vermont and back here in Ohio to take this four-week full-time writing course, but surprise!  It feels okay.  Good, even.  I had allowed my mind to get too crowded the last few weeks in Vermont and I couldn’t make myself relax for even a minute.

So much of what I worry about is not my water.  This I must remember.


2 thoughts on “It’s not my water.

  1. Heidi says:

    I really like that, “Not my water.” That is tough to be able to incorporate into our lives, not simply pay lip service to. But as they say, acknowledging it is the first step, right?

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