Pacing

This week brings the series of events that catalyzed diagnosis and then surgery two years ago. It was after the welcome back picnics that we first went to the emergency room in what turned out to be the formal beginning of this adventure. The MBA picnic, in particular, is associated in my mind with all these events, and it’s coming up Thursday. Two years provides an interesting perspective: the events are far enough back that they feel over and done, and near enough that they’re still pretty fresh in memory.

Overall, I don’t question any of this, because it is what it is and certainly better than all the alternatives. Yet when, like yesterday, I flat run out of steam in the middle of the day, or when I fall down, or when someone in my family takes care of something I used to do without thought, it feels odd. It feels odd when colleagues see me walking down stairs and say “that’s great!” It is, of course, it’s just an odd place to be in my life that we celebrate that. I’m not complaining: I have a great life and I’ve been very, very lucky. It’s different, though, and the adjustments, large and small, take time.

One of the things I hope changes very soon is to regain the energy to do more contemplation, more often. This recent stretch of time has been too intense and stressful; and whoever thought those words would come out of my keyboard? One of the extraordinary gifts about the kind of work I do and have been lucky enough to have over quite some time now is that I have a lot of control over how and when it gets done. Now it’s up to me to manage the overall load better and improve on my absolute worst capacity, which is to say “no.” That slow haredom that took so very, very much work to appreciate needs to come to the fore more often. On the plus side, the changed approach to eating and daily life seems to be working.

This stressful patch should ease soon, I hope. Maybe as soon as next week, maybe the week after… stay tuned!