Hunkering in

It is that time of the quarter where I start to feel burnout. Last year, I didn't know what I was feeling until I reflected later on how tired I was, how my heart wouldn't stop beating fast, and how short a fuse I had with friends or family. This year, understanding that burnout happens, I have been more in-tune with when it creeps up, even though I don't do much to stop it. No walks in the park, or lingering herbal teas, or massages. I start noticing though that the excited anticipation of starting the day anew starts to wane, and I grimace to myself that hopefully one day this week I will get a few hours to do something fun. The vacuuming of the house starts to go longer than a week, the boys may get one walk instead of two. The candle lit at both ends starts to go out. That is when I embrace a small intervention: Hunkering in. It may be 7pm and I am in my jammies and I have a book and I crawl under the covers. I read. I write. I doze off. I sleep. And I always look so forward to that time which reminds me of a cocoon. Knowing that the spring will come, and I will have new energy, new life, ready to face a new career and other exciting events. Hunkering in is the way I connect to myself when the burnout starts threatening me. And it feels so good. Chester, the other morning, was very interested in this hunkering in business. As I was getting into bed, he jumped up and we had a moment. He was cuddly and sweet and I almost...almost...took the covers up and had him hunker in with me. I knew I would regret it, though, with dirty sheets and comforter and how he will burrow his way until I am almost off the bed. But it was sweet, for a minute, to have my warm and cozy boy right next to me. Yes...with everything life has going on for me, hunkering in is good. Very good.