The kids are in Pennsylvania having a lovely time, and instead of using this free week to travel somewhere (which is always my first instinct), I stayed home. What a good decision. I have not been bored one minute. I have slept a lot. I have gotten what I needed to get done, done, and not pushed myself beyond that. And I'm finding these other little things are getting done because I've made so much space - like the mechanical pencils the boys use for homework have lead in them once again, and I brought the bottle I found in my grandma's backyard as a kid in from under the porch settee where it has been hiding for weeks. I've known it was there, it was just one of those thousand "I'll do it later" actions to take.
I really like being with myself. That is the treasure in the field I sold everything for - sold my safety, my hiding, my running from unpleasant feelings and truths. Sold my fear, my loneliness, my uncomfortability for. This afternoon I leisurely read more about my Enneagram type while jotting journal notes. It was affirming. I've done a lot of the work of growth they suggest. Now I can just rest and enjoy the fruits.