So, I’ve been home two weeks, now; and I’ve gotta say, seems not much has changed. My writing took an immediate nosedive, back to what it’d been before. Rather than doing things differently, acting on the insights/reminders I’d received during my week away, I’ve jumped right back to business as usual.
And maybe this is somewhat to be expected. Sometimes change is moreso the verb than the noun. And just perhaps part of my own post-vacation change is seeing how things haven’t changed. My first week back seemed mostly about getting my feet back under me at work. This second week has been seeing and confirming that how I’d been doing things wasn’t working, and reminding myself that one big reason for my week away was because things weren’t working and I needed at least some of them to change.
So here I am, in something of a sweet spot, perhaps: Just a couple weeks away from having seen other and better ways of living my life, and having just this very week seen how the old ways aren’t working. I’m currently bothered with how I’m doing things; yet the memory is still fresh in my mind of how things can be done better. See? It’s not a thing, yet; it’s still forming, still an action, a state of being.
During my week in Telluride, I took no fewer than four walks or hikes. In the two weeks I’ve been home? Not a single excursion, outside. I wrote everyday in Telluride. Today is the fourth day I’ve written in the two weeks since. To be sure, having a job can make it more difficult to make time for penning the pages and walking in the parks. And it’s also true that I’d forgotten how frustrating and draining my job is, after just a week away. Still, I’m not asking for big, drastic changes—just the wee, small ones. It’s okay that I fell back into my old routine. It would have been kinda hard not to. But now that I’ve seen this, I can begin easing back toward better routines. And, perhaps, one of those better routines is becoming both patient with, and compassionate toward, myself, huh?