It was a lot like running communications the week of an election. You strap in, and get ready for the ride. From the night prior through the actual giving day and into the early morning of the next day, it was a nonstop rush.
On the front end, the browser has grown from being a strange dumb terminal of documents and forms to a full partner. The browser not only provides a window into the world of classic websites, but helps us deal with devices that we can reach over a network.
Research is beginning to show that we need to be much smarter about what we actually do when we manage to get away from the office. Instead of simply "switching off," we need to learn how to switch among a variety of modes.
The presence of Sowilo (or Sowilu) at this time means we have persevered through hardship and truly mastered the work. Whatever has been pressing, its breakthrough and recently-revealed wisdom are lasting.
It never occurred to me to get more sleep. Sleep was for wimps. Sure, I was tired, I'd joke, but there was no way I was going to take a nap. I didn't have time for a nap.
What woman has time for a nap?
Learning to wind down at the end of a day without a laptop, cellphone or tablet assaulting our retinas is a modern-day challenge. But give it a try. If you can unplug your electronics at least an hour before bed, you might get a night of good sleep.
Someone told me that the average person, when asked how he/she is, answers with the singular word "busy." The sad thing is that no one questions this, everyone assumes it is just the way things are. We have lost touch with the sacred ritual of taking time for ourselves for renewal.
What do we get for slowing down, for sitting peaceably at summer's end, talking of poetry? We get called an idler by the noisy set, the productive people, the bankers, the schoolmasters, the clergy, the active folk, the busy people.
Many of us are so busy doing whatever it takes to keep all the balls bouncing that we fail to even notice how depleted we are becoming until the wheels begin to fall off our wagon and something forces us to stop.