Wednesday, 13 October 2010

One Day at a Time

If I look down the endless avenue of weeks that stretch out through the seasons I feel despondency settle over my heart like the dark shadows of dusk.

The long hours of empty days mock me with their silence and the pressure of time to fill weighs heavily on my shoulders.

I feel forlorn because my family is far away and my friends are few, and I feel frustrated because my distractions are small ones that repeat themselves ad infinitum.

I reach desperately for diversions that scatter like leaves before wind and I look long days in the eye and feel their emptiness deep in my soul.

But if I focus simply on today I find that the hours will pass, and that the hours will turn into days, and then days will morph into seasons.

And so with a story here, a meal there, a walk now and a nap later we will pass through these weeks in a steady flow of moments.

Yesterday we visited the geese. Today we will swim. And the rest of the week? No doubt we'll get through it moment by moment, one day at a time...


  1. I hear you, and I know the weeks you speak of intimately. I found it so crushing to see another empty box on the calendar, yet knowing the time could not be my own, to be used productively. It was the company of other women in the same boat which ultimately saved me. Seek them out - beneath the surface most of them will be feeling the same way as you. Though I did not believe it at the time, I now know it to be true.

  2. You have put so perfectly how I so often feel. I don't want to waste time, but yet I sometimes seem to be wishing it away. But on the good days, how wonderful it feels that you played with leaves together and giggled over tickly grass. On those days the vast expanse of time is a gift. If ony it felt that way everyday!

  3. I remember the slowness, the hours marked by simple tasks - puree carrot, short walk, trip to the shops. Each day can seem much the same and it is hard. Ali is right, it helps so much to be with like-minded people who also have tiny children.