Yesterday here on the blog, I announced that I was stopping and resetting, first in the larger scheme of things with A Former Poet’s Almanac, which I had been doing this month, and then on the small scale for the day. To that end, I said I would be “stopping thinking about work for the day and resetting my thoughts by reading poetry, specifically continuing to read Raymond Carver’s All of Us: Collected Poems and William Carlos Williams: Selected Poems.” The hope was that sitting and reflecting on something outside of myself would help me become a better person.
Then I also mentioned that as much as it was possible, it would be a “no people” weekend.
So how did that work out for you?
Um, yeah…Not so much.
I had just gotten settled into the couch for what I hoped would be a relaxing day of reading when I received a phone call from a coworker asking me to come in because she was sick and needed to go home. Instead of saying “No,” I immediately said, “Yes,” and told her I’d be there in about half an hour.
Within the first half hour, I had a “bad day” with a “problem patron.” Without going into details, it involved me having to call the director and while the rest of the day was what I termed “relatively quiet,” that incident weighed heavily on my mind. So as a result, my “no people” weekend has turned into a “no people” day.
This is my view as I type this:
To my left is my tablet with WXPN’s Sleepy Hollow playing on it; my iced coffee and books of poetry on my right. After hitting publish on this post, I will be reading a few Sunday Salon posts and then making my way back to that couch that I was getting settled into yesterday morning.
Sometimes I believe just as you have to listen what your body is telling you (slow down, for example), you also have to listen to what your mind and soul are telling you.
Today they are telling me to be quiet and replenish.
I leave you with this clip from The IT Crowd, which my wife and I joke about on days like this, and I stress joke because in both of our jobs, we have to “deal” with them in one capacity or another– and most of the time, fingers crossed that I’m not jinxing myself for the rest of the week by saying this ;), they’re not bastards.
Do you ever have days or weekends or even weeks where you need to be free of people? What do you do to relax? Where is your “laughing place” as Uncle Remus used to call it?