instead, all I can think is how beat, knocked down, dragged out I feel. I went to an all day workshop yesterday. The morning, especially, was very productive. The afternoon was a waste of time but fulfilled the need of our leader to do her thing, so we went along. We were creating a covenant, which seems to me like reinventing the wheel, since we covenant every Sunday

Love is the doctrine of this church
The quest for truth is its sacrament
And service is its prayer.

To dwell together in peace
To seek knowledge in freedom
To serve humanity in fellowship
Thus do we covenant.

We do not have a creed (a prescribed set of beliefs to which everyone must adhere); we are a covenantal church, a church of seekers, thinkers--we covenant with one another to live by general principles.

Buddhists have the 8-fold path

1. Right view
2. Right intention
3. Right speech
4. Right action
5. Right livelihood
6. Right effort
7. Right mindfulness (be present now)
8. Right concentration (focus)

which I like even better as a guide for living. We are all smart people, able to extrapolate from general principles to specific behaviors. We don't really need a list of covenantal bullets to spell it out. But she just couldn't let us leave early (somewhat controlling)--by the third iteration, she was getting only silent nods in assent.

Some people are truly wedded to tradition and expectation, no? In a more generous spirit, I suppose it is a useful sort of guided intentionality to derive specific behaviors for the group from the larger UU principles.

I paid dearly for my day of freedom, though. My back is hurting badly, most especially from the poorly designed chairs with which we were provided for this workshop (it was off site). Beautiful setting, but with 5,000 years of human development, you'd think someone could design an inexpensive, comfortable chair.

And I paid for it in increased caregiver duties. I was up most of the night doing mother- and nurse-type things. It's so much easier with a baby or small child. You pick them up, change them, remake the crib, and there you are. With a 190 pound man, not so easy. My back now aches in a way that says, "No mas!"

Broken sleep and pain always make me cranky and slow. I cringe in the knowledge that prolonged stress will, sooner or later, snap back on me in the form of an MS episode. Then, who will be the caregiver? The cat? I won't be able to get out of bed for 24-48 hours.

Too bad I'm feeling so down. It's a beautiful morning and the tomatoes are flourishing (I watered them in the dark at about 1 a.m., between caregiver duties. They were most grateful.) Half of them have flowers already. The birds are singing their hearts out.

I am reminded to be grateful for all I have: a good job, reasonably good health, food, clothing, shelter, a modicum of sanity, and a number of good friends. Life is good, is it not?