Only in getting away do I realize just how stressful my life is at home. Every day, here in Palm Desert, I’ve gone to the gym and been acutely aware that I didn’t have to be somewhere as soon as I was done. I go to the gym on my lunch break during my work week, and I probably exercise my neck, craning up to see the clock, as much as any other part of my body.

I’ve been thinking about the word “stress”, as in “stress fracture” and “stress-induced breakdown” and “stress-related diseases” and I’ve decided I don’t like being aligned with the word. I think there are better words that could be used to describe my life, only, I have to change my life so those words would apply. Words like “fulfilling” and “rich” and “restful” and “rewarding” and “balanced”. Clearly, some of these words fit some of the time, and I don’t need my life to be “restful” all the time, but I do need it to be “balanced” all the time. It’s probably going to be one of my life struggles.

But I am thankful for not just this weekend, not just the utterly delicious sheets I’ve been sleeping between, nor just the quiet, nor the opportunity to be by myself if I need to, but for absolutely everything that is going on in my life right now. Even the hard stuff. I feel very alive, very awake, and although many of the feelings I’m having are difficult, I know they are growing pains of a sort, and I welcome them.

Socrates has also been hanging around my brain lately, particularly this little gem: “Let him that would move the world first move himself.” I have a lot to move, in myself, before I can do the work I’m supposed to do, and the more self-aware I become, the longer the road stretches in front of me. I don’t know if it’s being around my stepmom, who often jokes about her long list of regrets, but I was plagued last night when trying to fall asleep with my own list, and I wonder how tmy regrets shape my behavior. There are those in my world who have had a certain relationship with truth- as in, some of us have chosen to bend the facts when the situation suited us- and I am no exception, and those choices haunt me. Lies I told at 14 years old were haunting me last night, and although I don’t lie like that anymore, any sort of charade, any time I’m complicit in a show put on for the sake of those around me, it feels awfully similar to an out-and-out fabrication.

I’ve been working through this with a small circle of friends and coaches, but this “bag of tricks” I use is often very upsetting to me. And every time I use it, it lessens the true me, and the true impact of which I’m capable.

Well. My hosts have returned, so I’ll have to return to this subject at a later date, but I’m hopeful I can work through all of this personal stuff without it adding to the stress of my professional life. And that I’m able to move myself, so I can finally move the world.

I just made the mistake of going back to read the blog I wrote when my cat died. One of the posters on Ian’s blog just had to put her cat down, and it was such a deeply traumatic event that my heart is heavy just thinking about it. I realize that to a non-pet owner such a thing may seem trivial at worst, inevitable at best, but your pets truly become a part of your life and having to choose when they die never feels right. I still wish that Zooey could have raised his paw and said, “Now. I’m ready now. This isn’t fun anymore.” Instead, I waited until he seemed past miserable, until he hadn’t purred in days. So maybe I waited too long. It doesn’t matter, I would have second-guessed the decision regardless- except I couldn’t let him live in the state he was in. He was mostly gone. But it doesn’t matter.

I’ve already had a conversation with my cat Fezzik, who turned thirteen this summer, that he better be one of those strange creatures that live to be 22 or 23. That’s the deal. For that, I’ll put up with his neuroses and his waking me up around 3:15 most mornings cuz he’s bored. I just hope he keeps up his end of the bargain.

And then, of course, there’s the Lucybug.

When this little creature is part of your morning, it changes everything- absolutely everything. She wakes up and all she wants to do is greet the day with first a shy smile, and then a guffaw that she gets to be there, with you. I had the rare and wonderful opportunity to witness three such mornings, and a full weekend with Lucy, Tessa, and Ian, and the beauty in that trinity is enough to knock you off your feet. I also saw a taste- just a taste- of the awesome responsibility of having a child. I keep thinking that if I do not find Mr. Right (or even Mr. Damn Close) in the next couple of years, I’ll just have kids on my own. But my god, what a choice. I’m stunned by the numbers of single parents in this country, stunned that they are ever successful, stunned by the work they take on and the dedication they must have to get through each day.

And so, Fezzik, you are it for now. Even though you do not give me this gift at feeding time…

… I’ll still keep putting out the Cat Chow.