On my way to the Second City for a brief weekend of healing and fellowship. I’m looking forward to it, but also feel pulled to stay here. There’s so much to do around the house, cleaning, mattress purchasing, more cleaning. Also, I feel bad as I’m going to miss my daughter’s softball tournament, but in the words of some of my friends, my getting better HAS to be first. All else hinges upon that. Not to mention, this is a good end to a decent week. I had a workshop and connected with some colleagues. I chauffeured them around town and made sure they had a good time. New commitments to research projects intermingled with tales of how each of us came to be. There was even the son of a Nobel prize winner in the group.
It’s this interaction that picks up my spirits and rejuvenates me. Almost like an addict to conferences and interactions, the high rejuvenates me and I can ride it for a few days after. But I then experience “con-fall”, as my therapist calls it. The downer after the reality of work, etc. sinks in again. I think it helps knowing that “con-fall” is an actual thing, else I might sneak away off to conferences all the time, until they became unsatisfying and then what’s left?
The loneliness all comes to feel the same, the morose monotony of life creeps in. It’s something that can converges into the same feeling of pain. Generalizing my lament to the same feeling allows me to deal with it in a similar way.. Breath, relax, take it in and believe that it will pass. Then cherish the time I had as it meant real connection and is something to look forward to again.
Chicago will provide a parachute this time time alone to reflect, time with friends to keep me grounded and more time alone to keep my momentum.