Torn today, as I am many days when I haven’t got a lot I have to do, between internal and external pursuits. It’s been three weeks since my kids and I have spent a full weekend together, more since we’ve had one that didn’t include a holiday or birthday party. Home on our own we find our way between computer, tv, music, cooking, reading, cleaning, pretending, and being with each other. We’re people who need a lot of time on our own. It’s easy for us to be together in a house all weekend and for it to be very quiet.

That being said, some weekends, like the last four or five, we find ourselves in groups with lots of people, whether holiday, time in the country with friends, city brunch or dinner, nights on the town or in meetings, funeral service or family get together, we, or at least I crave that human interaction. I love the exchange of ideas, the reciprocity, the electric energy of being with other people, new, old, familiar, strange. I love being looked after and looking after friends and family, even strangers. Many kinds of love a friend called it once. Must be it. Love of ideas and thought and reflection and quiet pursuits and love of people, society, family, friends, common good, mutual support.

So, after a morning of both, time reading, writing, talking on the phone, visiting friends, attending to business, cooking, sharing a meal and conversation, cleaning, listening to music, dancing with my girl and by myself, it’s on to an evening of something else, who knows what, Sunday of something else, who knows what. Other than a few chores and brief commitments, the time is ours to spend as we wish. Reminds me of the Gilchrist Retreats, opened with a gift of time to listen to ourselves, to make choices respecting our inner voice, to be alone or come together according to our heart’s desire. When I think of it that way, an open weekend with the kids feels a little like a retreat. Hoping for some revelation and inspiration and restoration right here in Somerville, Garrison Avenue style.