And then the crash

It was bound to happen. It always does. After pushing through the last few months,

(which, upon reflection, included
packing up
driving across the US
flying to Australia
getting the kids settled
a quick trip to Utah and back in December
shopping/planning/hosting/enjoying the holidays
prepping Lauren for India, and
all of those goodbyes throughout),

I crashed in a headachey, bluesy mess for an entire weekend. It's like my body knew exactly when it was okay to fall apart; do you do that?

I was mad at myself about it for a while. It's frustrating to feel weak and vulnerable and a little raw. Then, as I was thinking about it, I decided to consider it not a crash (with images of abrasions and injury and setbacks) but a cocoon (rest and growth and patience). A reset button. A pruning for next year's growth.  Maybe now and then we just need to stop and replenish--panting and catching our breath and looking back at the distance we've climbed--before moving on. And maybe if we don't do this on our own, our bodies demand it of us. 

Anyway, I perked up this week, emerged from my cocoon and cut my hair short (no pictures yet but kind of like this and this).  I guess that makes me a shorn January butterfly?  

. . .

Speaking of shorn hair (bear with me, this relates eventually, ha!), Lauren already has stories to tell from India, including a fascinating visit to a Hindu temple, the view from her room, the perils of traffic in India and how one of her fellow students decided to observe one of the Indian traditions by shaving her head.   You can follow her adventures at her blog, The Old College Try