Hello there, friend,
This morning I stood in front of the dryer waiting for the clothes to stop tumbling. Why I didn't just open the door and take out what I needed, I don't know. I was entranced with the metaphor -- the tumbling, the heat, how it dries the damp and presses out wrinkles. Tumble, tumble, tumble.
I have been so tired. Bone tired, like when you have a newborn baby and every night you wake again and again to crying. Last night, my kids took turns getting up and I was awake half the night. This morning, they stood beside the bed yelling, "Wake up!" and giggling. I couldn't. I just laid there.
After I had made the coffee and dumped some cereal in bowls for breakfast, I stumbled to the basement, flipped on the dryer, and listened. I have felt that urge to listen, that urge for quiet, and every day I struggle to find it. I grab on to the quiet when I can, like a piece of driftwood floating by. Maybe this one will carry to me to safe harbor. Then again, maybe not.