Monday, March 14, 2011
Not only have Teri and I both been working a lot, but our jobs have also been stressful and incredibly draining (okay, not Teri's wholesale nursery job--she refers to that as her "Zen Job.") Teri is gone in the mornings before I wake up and I worked late several nights last week. Meanwhile, there are the compounded peripheral challenges--a misbehaving dog, worries about kids, family and wedding stuff, annoyances, chores, blah, blah, blah. All the ingredients necessary for some pretty stormy relationship weather. What it really comes down to is a feeling of disconnect and needing to find a way to get close again amidst chaos and upheaval. When the storm hit last night, we were trying to deal with our own stormy feelings of frustration.
Walking down Park Street this morning, I was struck by the juxtaposition of the storm damage and the warm sun, singing birds and calm morning. We live in an older neighborhood with huge cedar and pine trees, as well as a great variety of blossoming fruit trees. At one point, as I walked over a carpet of branches, needles and cones, I breathed in the smell of Christmas from the warming debris. I realized that the big, old trees probably feel lighter after the storm--the Spring breezes can move through the remaining branches a little easier. In the aftermath of the storm, things seem a bit precarious, tender and intentional. It is the same with couples and people post-storm--there is something beautiful in the rebuilding; a sense of optimism, renewal and deeper breathing. Some of the tension is gone. I notice neighbors waving to each other as they step out into the sunlight to clean up the scattered damage from the storm...