My day, week, month
ideally contains
just enough
challenge,
leisure,
relationship,
to "feel" full.
Not so much that,
at its end,
I am spent, hungry, used up--
longing for
someone else
to cook my dinner
while I stare into the fire
martini in hand.
It's tricky,
this time thing.
Too much activity, even dancing or
selling clothes
puts me into catatonia.
Yet boredom too
a whole day with even a great book
is just too much silence and sitting for me.
I need to clean the attic,
do a load of laundry
look at Facebook.
So I strive for busyness
but just enough.
A long swim,
lunch with a friend,
a writing group,
then peeling carrots for cassoulet.