Friday evening, I found myself in the parking lot of an Arby’s. That makes it sound like I had been kidnapped and dumped out of a van – or stumbled through an arcanic portal from the nether-realms. As interesting as either of those might be, I drove there with the prosaic intent to pick up dinner. But before I went in, I sat for a moment in my car – ostensibly waiting for Jim to text me his order, but also to just take a moment.
And breathe.
Just before my stop at Arby’s I’d been at the tax prep office – waiting for an hour past my appointment time and fretting about my paperwork. I’ve never had a problem, but I always think I’ll have a problem. The kind that leads to an audit and federal prison for certainty.
And before that was a rush to leave the office on time while trying to help get an important message out. It was “zero hour” for me to leave and for the message to go – and I was in between the people with the message and the people fixing the problem.
And before that had been an incredibly stressful week of endless demands on my time and unrestful evenings. With a lurking sorrow of loss clouding over me.
So sitting there in the Arby’s parking lot, I took a deep breath.
Taxes are inevitable – as the saying goes – and I was as prepared as I could be. The long wait meant they gave me a discount and though I was missing one form, it won’t be impactful when I file an amended return.
I did everything right to work the email problem and I juggled multiple conversations and projects better than anyone else I know could have done. Everything did work out later on when I checked in and my boss was pleased with my efforts.
And the week? Well, I did my best and put in all the hours required of me – even the ones that drifted past quitting time. I was busy and productive and helpful. And managed to find a little comfort in the peculiar shadows in corners that reminded me of my dark gray cat before they resolved to “just shadows”.
Jim texted me his order and I went in to get some food for us. This past weekend has been mostly relaxing and I’ve tried to keep my thoughts on the Now – rather than the future that Monday will bring or the past that can neither be fixed nor changed.
I’m trying to be mindful of my breath. The passage of time from an inhale to an exhale – and the timeless moment between.
There are still gasps and dramatic sighs. Still snorts of derision and sharp intakes of air.
But mostly there are the breaths that simply happen – uncounted and unnoticed, but still necessary and inevitable.
I am not yet okay. Maybe none of us really are anymore. But I’m doing my best and I’m still breathing.