Iâ€™m not really sure how to describe the feeling the aura the so obviously NOT US nature of this weekend, especially for those who donâ€™t know me in person, but I am having HELLA fun with my booty-licious husband on this weekend getaway.
We are laughing, we are jesting, we are gazing fondly at one another as if on our first date again. And the touching? At dinner last night I felt very strongly that Bryanâ€™s leg be pressed up against mine AT ALL TIMES no matter where he had to itch â€“ I just couldnâ€™t get enough snuggle.
And today we are actually agreeing on what to do next EVEN THOUGH WE HAVE NOT MAPPED OUT A SPECIFIC PLAN FOR THE DAY. Where do I begin to describe the significance of spontaneity in our relationship?
At any rate, we spent the morning in downtown Portland at the mall, then wandered over to Powellâ€™s City of Books (aka the Mecca of bookstores) where we browsed for various things on our list.
I picked up My Sisterâ€™s Keeper and Anansi Boys, books Iâ€™m reading for two different book clubs I participate in, plus The Search for Significance, a book recommended by my therapist as a tool to break through the errors in my belief system (like playing the blame game, or being a victim).
As I sit here in the quiet of my hotel room, my mind is clear, and I feel relaxed â€“ both mentally and physically. The stress has melted away, and all the balls I juggle on a daily basis are quietly holsteredâ€¦ in their ball pitâ€¦ somewhere within this bad metaphor.
During the last week my mind felt so full of information that I couldnâ€™t muster up enough brain cells to make a grocery list. A friend who offered to keep Scout for the weekend wanted to pick her up a day early, and I gazed at her with an empty face as I listened to her ask the question.
â€œI donâ€™t even know how to make that happen,â€ I finally said.
And truly, I had no random access memory left to sort through the simple steps of collecting the dog food, the bowls, and the leash. There was too much noise in my head.
This weekend I look forward to experiencing the quietness of spirit to think, to read, and to write as I have very little space in my life for thoughtful, reflective writing. As we checked in late last night there were three guys in the office â€“ one covered in tatts, one with a handlebar mustache, and the other wearing an indie rock band t-shirt. I asked if there was wifi available on site and the three of them lit up like Christmas morning.
â€œUh huh!â€ they all said simultaneously.
â€œReally?â€ I asked. â€œLike, Iâ€™ll have internet access in my room?â€
Again with the wide eyes and the Cheshire grins, â€œUh huh!â€
I felt relief again that on this holiday from my hectic life, I can write and blog and reflect in real time. I can create and share things as they happen. If I have an inspiration, I donâ€™t have to store it in my mind, yearning for an opportunity or the energy to express it. If only for a few days, my mind can be free from its daily clutter.
At this moment I could not be happier if it was raining chocolate covered raisins.