And then I look back, and look back again. These self imposed duties, stretching back through the years, back to the start, where the task of fixing the world seemed to fall on my shoulders and mine alone.
I dreamed last night of going home in the middle of the day, of leaving the work and the duties, and sinking into a pool of warm water. It felt sweet and good.
The world overwhelms with all its demands. And I remind myself these demands come from within. The world just keeps on turning, as worlds do, and we play out the stories we've made up about our lives.