Lesbianism: The Process of Processing the Process

I feel like I ought to be blogging, but honestly...I can't think of what I'd say.

Here's what's going on around here:

My project for tomorrow is to build an enclosure for the ducks. I think they're ready to graduate from the guest bedroom to the outdoors. I've got a nice semi-shady spot picked out for them in the yard.

It's time to start mowing again. I mowed for about an hour today but then I had to quit and get ready for work. I realized that that's going to be the quiet time I'll need to get down to the business of grieving (And, dare I say it? Processing that grief.), and maybe then turn my attention elsewhere.

The thing I've learned by living in the world for a few decades is that no matter how much you'd like to hurry sadness along, it stays as long as it damn well pleases. Sometimes it tries to move in and share space on the couch if you're not careful. The easiest way for me to send it on it's way is to spend a day or two paying attention to it, listening to it fuss about all the ways life's not fair, and then show it the door. Sometimes it takes more than a day or two.

Experiencing emotional upheaval is like listening to a child tell a story. You can interrupt it, but the kid's going to start telling the story again from the beginning, over and over until you shut up and listen to it all the way through. Better to just settle down and realize that you're going to spend the next few minutes listening to the story. Sadness is a story you have to listen to straight through from the beginning to the end before it lets you do something else.

So tomorrow I'm going to try and spend a quiet day working on the duck pen and mowing and listening to the story my heart needs me to hear. Then I'm going to settle down, stop worrying about who's going to die next, and get back to the business of living my life.

At least, that's the plan. I'll let you know how it goes. :-)