Well I am finally home, and on familiar turf, donned in wool socks and flannels, padding around the house sorting through junk mail and playing with my bike toys. Going from 90+ degrees humidity to just-above-freezing New England autumn has given my immune system a few swift kicks to the ribs. Aside from being sick, it was a great weekend in Boston with friends, wine, and a bruiser of a game of tackle co-ed football--it could have been a J. Crew Fall cover, honestly. All we were missing was the dog.
I really am too tired to write much more than this tonight, but I'll be posting some additional reflections from the retreat this week. I think the key to continuing with this transition back into things, everything--back to work, to responsibilities, school, family, etc.-- is going to lie more than anything in the balance. Trying not to gorge myself on my thoughts like I was at a Bob's Big Boy. Also being confident that some things really have changed despite appearances and the continued dominance of habit. So its off to bed with unclenched fists, thoughts circling overhead like gnats on a sweating, tired piece of sirloin sighing in the heat of the summer sun.
Listening to: Blocparty