|CC by 2.0 photo credit, top: Richard Hurd, "Black-capped Chickadee in flight" (Sept 5, 2012)|
The annual denouement following my time at Centrum is always a time fraught with conflicts. I'm forced to catch up in real life, while mining the riches I've unearthed from the conference.
It means shifting energy away from that strange paradoxical continuum of decompression-meets-intensity toward the normal 24-7: ordinary schedules, domestic concerns, work-related commitments, family demands.
And always, health concerns. New symptoms may or may not arise, but the biggest indicator for me is fatigue, because it can be hard to know its root cause. When I make this yearly pilgrimage to the Port Townsend Writers Conference (PTWC), I come away well rested in one respect, yet exhausted.
It takes at least as many days home as I spent away to return to Normal. And my sleep. Yegads. So out of whack. I didn't even leave the time zone and I feel jet lagged!
Yet I feel like this chickadee in flight, rising from a phoenix-like occupation after 10 days away from Real Life.