23 April 2008
My surroundings are peaceful today. The trees are still, bellbirds are chinkchinking and some other kind are tweeting and cheeping in a classic, storybook manner. Apart from the birds it is utterly quiet. There are no cars or planes to clutter the stillness; now the rhythmic chop of an axe comes, the dull thuds floating up the hill to me. A kookaburra sits not ten feet away, lazily watching me as I type.
The calm here is in stark contrast to my state of mind. I can't find peace or stillness right now. My head is slack and slow, there is a thickness behind my eyes and my hands tremble. I'm sleep deprived, irritable and feel overworked although I know that really I'm not. Deadlines loom, competing for my attention and in the midst of it all and on top of it all, the mindless administrivia of running a household and family threatens to overwhelm me and drown me in its endless crushing loop. I am tired of being the one who holds it all together.
Such bitterness and resentment.
The kookaburra just opened his beak in a long silent laugh and turned away from me to face the hills.
Middleclass problems, I know. Sometimes I need to be reminded of my blessings.
Don't we all?