Respite

Shoulders clench, quivering, as I huddle in the now cold room, bent on capturing the images and feelings that began flooding into me during my giving a therapy session, as mind processed the dream.

The rain swooshes against cars and street as the vehicles pause, then slosh through puddles at the stop lights outside the office windows.

Up until today, the rain did not stop my loading or unloading the trucks.

And yet today, I am realizing how fatigued I am in my muscles – and even fingers – from all of the gripping and fine motor navigation coordination required in dislodging and transporting so many items from one treacherous landscape to unknown others.

The truck’s slippery ramp last night, which almost sideways completely “split” my legs, was one such terrain.

The shushing rain is telling me I’m to rest – that I’m not to rush out in the time gap between clients to address the near-countless plants and misc. items piled and crammed into the truck, still awaiting unloading.

It tells me it doesn’t matter that extra money had to be spent for toiletries and too-expensive cat food from the late night convenience store to feed felines and canines this morning at 4am and keep us all functioning

It tells me it does not matter that I will have to pay for yet another truck rental day.

It tells me that I must rest more and just get through working, to gain any recovery I can first, and that tomorrow, both my youngling and I will have a day off where we can then together tackle the whole thing.

If only I weren’t worried about funding with rent at work and home due in just a few days.

If only I could believe I’m truly in the hands of Divine guidance, and that everything will work out – no matter the pile of bills gathering and looming, like a giant tidal wave.