So life immediately post-retreat was been pretty good. It’s been a pleasant drift back down to earth, finally getting into my studio (above) and enjoying the savouring of big dreams and possibilities.
But then I expended all my energy on moving all my stuff from my room down to the studio and building lots of flatpack furniture (my life is pretty much brought to you by IKEA); mum kept saying “you’ve done a great job…but you’ll be so tired!” and I’d just smile and keep going. And then sleeping has been okay but I’m waking up tired and sore, so I gave in after months of suspecting the bed has been sabotaging me and bought a new bed even though I can’t quite afford it (but that’s pretty darn exciting, can’t wait for it to arrive). And then I forgot to take my meds (WHY is it so hard to remember to take those darn tablets every day?). And then I went back to work and although it was wonderful to see everyone, we had a calendar planning day and boom, there’s a year of work just stretching out before me.
And now, although I am sitting in my lovely studio, I am feeling rather sad.
That feels very ungracious, because I’ve had such a wonderful couple of weeks! I’m trying to let the sad thoughts and the imposter-syndrome rubbish just keep moving on by – it’s not based on reality, and is just the result of post-event slump combined with depression. It’s pretty much to be expected, really.
Must be kind to myself!