It's twenty past noon and I just finished successfully cleaning a toilet and the main bathroom sink. That may not sound like much, but I'm feeling a tad bit proud. Four minutes into the chore, my back yelled at me to go sit down. So I did, for three minutes, then went back and finished it.
I do everything in piecemeal. Five minutes here. Five minutes there. I suppose I should be grateful I'm able to do this much. I know several folks who can't.
I sit here in between 5-minute work sessions and tune into Easy Listening music. It seems to actually calm my anxiety. I get too worked up over not being able to do things anymore. It's silly. "Be still and know..."
I freshened my water pot on the stove with more peppermint and eucalyptus oils. The air smells so fresh. Relaxing. Resting lets my mind wander to the list of things I'd love to be getting done. Alas, the voice whispers again, "be still and know".
I try, I really do. But the list mocks my resolve.
So do the few items scattered about the living room. The sweater and scarf I dropped on my walker last night when I got home from church. Little things beg to be picked up and put in their places.
After I get my bedroom dusted, I may try to tackle hanging a painting that's been leaning against the wall for three years. Maybe. I may not be able to reach the spot where the nail needs to go. That may have to wait 'til after my back ablation. And maybe my knee replacement.
I'll have to see.
Living in a piecemeal world means waiting to see if I'm able. Yeah, it's frustrating. But I'm getting through it all. Piece by piece.