I’ve been sick with what I suppose is the flu. The kind of sick where I haven’t felt like drinking coffee, even first thing in the morning. The kind of sick where the weight of the knife in my hand to cut my chicken seems too heavy. I’ve lost a couple a couple of days and now that I’m slowly emerging, I’m feeling behind. The list in my planner has gone unchecked and the projects I’m excited about have stalled. I’ve been unable to help my husband in (yet another) kitchen remodel and my daughters’ activities have gone on without my attention.

In a daze of fever, not quite sleeping and yet not awake, this thought drummed through my pounding head – you’ve got to get better before doing what you want.

I need to heal my body. The list can wait, it has to wait, even though I don’t want it to – I want to forge ahead. And so it is with other kinds of healing. Healing from the difficult circumstances of my young life led me to writing my memoir Float On, where I got to tell my own truth about it all. That was healing for me and hopefully helpful in some way to others. Writing about recent difficulties in my family in this blog was healing to me. Being authentic and truthful feels important. Bearing witness to my own life in a public way is healing to me, maybe because of my natural inclination to withdraw or subvert attention. To do the things I want, the things I dream about, I must get better, otherwise my efforts can become self-sabotage.

So I rest. And I do small things to get better. A cup of tea with lemon and honey. I let my husband wait on me. I write a few words before I go lie down. Because there are big things for us all to do, but first we must get better.

Love, Molly

(Here’s a peek of one of my favorite hiking spots in Palm Springs.)