This push-pull counter force is very much in operation here in my house at the moment. On Wednesday I am off to Holland to stay with friends for Christmas. I am really looking forward to this. My Holland friends are very special to me and have a big place in my heart. I am delighted to have so much time with Ralph when we are both free of obligations and it promises to be a great few days away. So why is it that a part of me, a big part, wants to get into bed, pull up the covers and get up only to eat and take an occasional walk in the snow?
I have a dining room table covered in Christmas presents and am busy baking and cooking things to take with. I can't bring myself to wrap any of the gifts we're bringing and want to devour the baked goods in one gigantic binge. Push me-pull you indeed!
The weather and the transport networks of London are also in this push-pull energy. The absolutely freezing temperatures, colder than I've known it here for over 40 years, has caused ice on roads and frozen runways at airports. Combine this with snow, heavy snow, throughout Europe that has caused airports to close and people are completely unsure as to whether or not to head off for the airport or wait at home for more news.. Will I actually get the chance to go anywhere at all on Wednesday?
Recently a friend of mine posted a quote that said that worrying is another way of praying for things you hope won't happen. I've been doing a lot of that lately. As a matter of fact I think I am becoming a convert to this worrying religion. Will my plane leave London? Will the airport here be open? Will the Amsterdam airport be open? Will the trains in Holland be running? Will all the gifts fit into the suitcases? How will I get to the airport? What time should I leave for the airport? When do I start nagging Ralph? Ignore the last question, I've already started.
Meanwhile the push me-pull you action means that it's 5pm and I'm sitting around in my dressing gown. Admittedly I've baked six dozen chocolate chip cookies today and eaten only half, but the desire to make myself presentable to the world has vanished. I cannot get my head clear at all. I can't think of what sort of clothes I might need for a few days staying with friends who live on the edge of the North Sea. Even saying that makes me feel cold. I have nothing packed or even planned.
The indecisiveness I feel is another of those seasonal symptoms. Everything, but everything feels like just too much trouble. Every decision feels earth-shattering, every action feels like it weighs too much. I just want things easy and if I really stop and think about it, it is, but I keep forgetting to do that. The push me-pull you forces are all in my imagination and the worrying - well, that's just something I am so used to and so good at that I do it without any hesitation.
Many years ago I remember saying to my mother-in-law, a sweet little English woman of about 89, that there was no need for her to worry about us, about her grandchildren, her sisters, her friends and anything and anyone else that could be worried about. She looked at me as if I was mad and quietly smiled and said, "Somebody has to do it!".
So lucky me, I live with the other half of the push me-pull you creature, the just calm down and stop nagging, it will all work out fine husband. It helps a lot.
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