So, where have I been, you ask?

Oh, here and there.

But mostly, I’ve been in my head.

I could spend hours, days, weeks up in that room, inviting no guests, stocking my freezer in advance so I could shelter in place, live as something of a recluse.

I’ve been ruminating, tumbling thoughts over and over again like sheets in the dryer. Things I want for the future, things I regret from the past. Things I hope to achieve in my career, and the day-to-day tasks that might get me there. Things to ask for, things to reject. Things to do before one work trip, one weekend trip, another work trip. A mental calendar that seems full until the days tick by.

And yet, as I mentally wandered between one self-imposed crisis to the next, my sense of disconnection grew, eased momentarily here and there, but never fully subsiding. It’s a spiritual disconnection, and an emotional one too. Walking away from meditation, prayer, journaling … not identifying my feelings, just looking for the next “to-do.”

The last couple of days I have prayed for the willingness to connect again, to be present, to turn off the lights and come downstairs.

Life is downstairs. I was snapped out of this tonight upon hearing news of a friend’s very serious and difficult struggle. And I realized that while I am living in a time of transition, in more ways than one, it’s not really something worthy of a “crisis” label. It’s a time that will lead me to important things, but it’s also a time that will weave into the fabric of the past.

My task, then, is to be present in this day, this minute. Being present means being free. I am ready to let go, to release the problems I can’t solve, to stop believing I can control the future just by thinking about it a lot.

I am here, or I am trying to be. At least, I’m ready to come back.