One of the timeless beach-trip pleasures for small children is to cover dear old dad in sand using colorful plastic pails and shovels. It is all fun and laughter, but when dad has finally had enough, he may be surprised to find that the sand, applied in child's-toy increments, is heavy enough to make movement difficult.
The last month was like that. (Metaphorically only, sadly enough; it has been far too long since I have spent any time on an actual beach.) The last week of January was one of those weeks that, in retrospect, I realize I spent more than a month aiming toward. Monday was a showdown with a federal judge. Wednesday was a mediation starting in the late afternoon and running late into the evening, the third straight Wednesday mediation for that case. Friday was the ruling on a motion in yet another case. In hours in between, there was a motion to write and a massive client report to prepare. It was a week heavy on firm deadlines and big outcomes, after a month full of similarly time-sensitive or otherwise significant activities.
The accumulation of a multitude of burdens snuck up on me. I usually do not appreciate how much weeks like that weigh on me until they are over. This weekend felt like that part of a hike when you finally crest a hill and see the next valley spread out before you. You have been so focused on each footfall on the way up the trail that you forgot about even the possibility of a summit, let alone what might lie beyond. It was a time of great relief and lightness.
I'm still busy, and there are no indications that I will be anything less than busy for the foreseeable future. However, it is a relief to be through that particular set of rapids. I will be content to merely paddle with the current for a while.
And perhaps pull up on a beach every now and then.
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