Disconnecting

I've spent the last four or five days in a sort of chronic crisis mode. Computer crisis, flu bug crisis, emotional crisis. All better now, or at least well enough. I was really frustrated and upset at all the whammies when they started coming at me, one after another, but about midway through it was either "go with the flow" or "go get a sledgehammer". Fortunately I was able to move into a zen-like acceptance of all the crap I was dealing with (or at least a very good imitation of one) and I made it through. Whew.

Now that I'm past the crises and theoretically "back on track", I'm beginning to think perhaps all that major distraction was a good thing. Because now, three days before THE BIG TRIP begins, I'm feeling all nervous and run-around-in-brain-circles-ish. Do I know where everything is? Will I be able pack accurately for the weather? Did I make a mistake buying luggage too large to carry on? Do these capris look stupid wearing them with socks and shoes instead of sandals? Did I remember to buy everything we'd need? I had a dream last night, something about having to finish knitting a sweater on board before the plane could land and I was knitting, knitting, knitting, as fast as I could before the plane ran out of gas. Oh my, oh dear, oh bother!

So, that's all to be expected. And I know myself, I'll be fine once I'm packed and on my way. For me, it's not the being away that makes me nervous, it's the leaving part that's hard. I'm reading my blogs, looking at my garden, opening up my refrigerator, and thinking that in a few days all of this will be unnecessary information. The habits, routines, sites and sounds that I use to pattern my days will all be out of reach, out of sight. I'll be disconnected, not only from the internet (although, yeah, I know, not really, they do have e-mail access in England), but from my life in general. For a month I'll be living a different life, an alternate life, a new life.

The idea is a little bit scary, but mostly it's a whole lot exciting. I remember when my son Joseph first started preschool. He was very excited about his new adventure, until the moment when we stood in the front of the building. He looked at the school and then he looked at me. School. Mom. School. Mom. Tears welled up in his big blue eyes. I went in with him and the teacher said it was fine to stay until he was ready for me to leave. But for Joseph, just knowing I was there kept him in that state of deciding - whether to commit to the day or keep me in sight. Finally the teacher suggested I leave and I could call and see how my son was doing with my absence the minute I got home. I raced home, heart in my throat, grabbed up the phone and dialed. Of course you know what the teacher said - the minute I left, he was fine. Having a great time.

I know I'll have a great time too. Just as soon as I'm on my way.