Monday

I'm missing Ben. It's time for him to come home.

They called first thing this morning, having been to Pompei. Ben continued to rave about homemade ravioli and didn't have much to say about the most ancient site in Italy. Figures.

As for me, definite waves of loneliness were pushing and pulling at my emotions all day yesterday and today, as well. I had so much productive time this weekend, and some quiet, spiritual and reflective time, too. But not much in the way of physical interaction unless you count the debate my mom and I got into over green, leafy vegetables. She shuffles around the house so much - in slippers and all - and the energy becomes stagnant. And more stagnant.

Yesterday, I couldn't take it any longer. I texted three friends in desperation. "Please, I need to get O-U-T!" But everyone had plans so I made peace with being at home in the shadow of my mother's existence and that was that.

Today was different. After work, I cleaned another closet and became so disgusted with being at home - with her AND with myself - that I got in my car and drove to see a friend at her work. Which is also my work when I teach classes. Yes, sadly, my big escape was to the club. But she gave me tons of empathy over Ben being gone and a few laughs, too.

I attempted to do some secondhand shopping this afternoon but my heart wasn't in it. I wanted to buy my best friend a pair of boots so once I found those, my mission was completed. My final attempt at connecting was going to my favorite instructor's Reformer class tonight. She killed me.

As I look out to the final stretch of Ben being gone, I'm amazed at how busy my schedule is about to get. New clients, a parent meeting at school, a date, a dating event, coffee with another friend, classes to teach. Maybe it's good that I had this little slice of downtime.

Deepak Chopra writes that the only way we can tap into our inner strength is by being quiet. Very, very quiet. "Silence," he says, "is the best teacher."

Yes, indeed Deepak. That it is.