The Slow Pace of Healing

The pace of our life has slowed way, way, way down.  

Part of this is a natural slowing after surgery.  Part of it is by design (I decided to cut out the children's art classes this winter and spring, so that we have more margin....we're still keeping piano, ballet, and co-op, but having all that plus art, and all on different days?!, was making me feel pinched). Part of it is because a virus hit and first Annie was sick with a fever and cough for three days, and now Finn and I are tired and battling it.  Fortunately we don't seem to have as severe an illness....I'm just sleeping *a lot*, coughing a little, and consuming copious amounts of fresh juice and raw vegetables. And so far, other than the exhaustion and a sore throat, I'm doing alright.

I'm playing violin most days (unless sore throat-exhaustion preclude it).  It's good therapy and I dearly, truly, genuinely love it.  (And this is my beautiful and wonderful new violin, a Christmas gift from Mr. P! Everyone say hi to Andre!)

One morning I woke up and couldn't find my husband.  I looked outside and there he was, three days after surgery, hiking the farm.

So much juicing happening......

I'm knitting a scarf for a dear friend who is going through chemo.  I sat at Finn's piano lesson Monday and worked on this.  And I realized then that we're all healing from the past month.  My husband was diagnosed December 18, and surgery was January 16.  In the course of that month we had multiple doctor's visits, tests, phone calls, research, Christmas, travel to Charleston, Annie's birthday, surgery......we are all needing some healing, physically *and* emotionally.

I didn't complain at all when our co-op was cancelled yesterday.  And Annie was too ill to go to ballet on Wednesday.  We're staying home, slowly getting healthier.  We are getting a bit of fresh air, cooking soups (Mr. P is still on a liquid diet), taking naps. 

Healing is a slow process.  I just finished an old book where the heroine was sent to the seaside to heal.  Back in the old days I think they took healing much more seriously than we do now, and they knew it took time. They also connected the mind and body much more than we do these days, too.

So we're treating healing like serious business right now: time to rest and drink juice and play music and look outside at the valley and get some sunshine. And time to think.  And pray.

Perhaps a few weeks of "healing" every year is good for everyone. I know it is good for the soul.